


Strike Me, Strike Anywhere

by howff



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Anbu Uchiha Sasuke, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Dynamics (Naruto), Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/referenced medical trauma, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Slow Burn, The Soap Opera (with Ninjas) I've Been Dying to Write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howff/pseuds/howff
Summary: "We've never been close, have we, Sasuke-kun?"The affectionate honorific had an unpleasant edge, almost mocking. Sasuke didn't bother answering; Kakashi knew the answer.In which Sasuke doesn't get an easy redemption and Kakashi has a way of drowning in the past.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura/Tenten, Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Sasuke, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 25
Kudos: 91





	1. The Nature of Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> In the interest of full disclosure, I don't consider myself a fic writer; in fact, I've never put serious effort into writing and I’ve never published anything I’ve written. Hopefully, that doesn't make itself too painfully obvious in this work.
> 
> Other than trying my hand at writing something of (debatable) substance, I want to play around with how I think characters would think and act if Naruto wasn't marketed toward younger fans, and if the series had gone a bit differently (and a lot more tragically). Basically, welcome to the Angst and Sad and Sad Angst Show. I'm taking the most creative liberties, and no one can stop me.
> 
> Thanks for coming along with me on this adventure!

He had the thought that, even after everything he'd been through in his relatively short life, _love_ would be his demise. It was, perhaps, too dramatic a realization for four in the morning, but it had less to do with his flair for the melancholy and more to do with the fact that if it weren't for love (or at least an alarmingly persistent fondness), he could still be at home.

Then again, without that same fondness, he and everyone else would be dead. That wasn't the point, though.

The point was that it was all Naruto's fault. It was _always_ Naruto's fault.

The third training ground was empty- because no reasonable person was awake- save for a single figure at the far end, bobbing up and down as they stretched. Sasuke paused, hovering in the tree line, as he watched his best friend (though, until at least six o'clock, it might be more accurate to refer to Naruto as his mortal enemy yet again) bend and sway as he moved through advanced kata.

Sparring with Naruto was now part of his weekly routine, almost like he'd never left Konoha. This was how they would have grown up if… Sasuke was content to leave it at "if." Nostalgia and a somber sort of longing, or regret, or more of his ever-present guilt colored the training ground: the scene of their first defeat and then victory together as Team 7.

When Naruto had finally dragged him back to the village, he'd been tossed in prison and placed under guard. It was an unnecessary show largely because nothing could have kept Sasuke there if he didn't want to stay; Naruto was the only nin capable of bringing him to heel, and even the newly elected Rokudaime didn't find it easy despite having an arm more than Sasuke did. Still, it had given the people of the Hidden Leaf some small measure of peace about his being there before his official trial. In the end, he'd been granted a pardon and let out of prison, but there had been stipulations— the least of which were constant surveillance by Anbu, a charka-dampening bracer, and a seal that would detonate if he left the village.

He considered his shackled wrist absently, still hidden in the trees and contemplating. Sasuke allowed himself to take it in for just one more moment, committing feelings and panorama to memory in a pale imitation of the Sharingan. Then, he uncloaked himself.

Naruto, immediately aware of Sasuke's presence, looked up toward his perch and smiled. "You made it!" He crowed at a volume nearly sacrilegious given the hour.

Sasuke couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he alighted on the ground. "It's too early to be awake, dobe." Neither one of them mentioned that Sasuke's insomnia had him wandering distantly familiar streets at all hours of the night. He wouldn't have been asleep anyway.

Naruto laughed and rolled his eyes. "Some of us have things to do during the day, teme." It was almost alarming how easily they'd fallen back into an easy camaraderie; it was like Naruto- unlike everyone else- had never kept a tally of Sasuke's sins. They'd never mattered to him.

"Whose fault is that? You're the twelve-year-old that talked a big game. You jinxed yourself into the Hokage’s chair."

Naruto's laugh was brighter than the watery rays of light finally breaking the horizon. They said nothing else after it faded. Their weekly conversations were conducted mostly in the solid _thunk_ of kunai into wooden dummies and the gasping _pop_ of dispelled clones— at least until that changed to panting as they laid out exhausted in the middle of the training field.

"Speaking of things to do later," Naruto continued breathlessly, and Sasuke had no trouble keeping up. They operated like that, too, in one single conversation that picked up wherever it last left off. "I have a proposition for you."

Sasuke arched a sharp, black brow. "Hn." He was listening, but not exactly keenly.

Naruto sucked in a few more heavy gasps, before pushing up to his elbows. Sasuke stayed on the ground, tilting his head back so he could see his friend better.

"You're tired of being cooped up in the village, right?" Naruto didn't wait for an answer, not that one was forthcoming. Sasuke was going stir crazy and they both knew it; why else would he have agreed to weekly pre-dawn training?

Naruto pressed on. "How would you feel about wearing a mask?"

Sasuke considered it for a moment, before clarifying: "You're asking me to be Anbu." It wasn't a question.

Naruto nodded. "You've got the skill set. Besides, everyone knows you won't listen to anyone but me.” He huffed out a laugh. “Sometimes.”

Sasuke snorted, but he didn't deny it. He was still figuring out how to be himself again. He was still wrestling with the path he'd chosen all those years ago. He was still learning to love Konoha, to honor his brother's wishes. Just because he was looking for some sort of redemption didn't mean he wanted a tokujō telling him what to do.

He stayed quiet, face expressionless as he considered the idea. Naruto pushed to his feet, having already caught his second wind thanks to that kyūbi no kitsune chakra. He knew the idea had merit. He didn’t need to browbeat his friend— not anymore, anyway.

"Just think about it, yeah? Same time next week!" Then he was gone, not quite the Yellow Flash but right on his heels.

Sasuke didn't bother waving.

* * *

Three days later, he thumped softly onto an open window sill high up in the Hokage's Tower. The sound was a courtesy to the Hokage and his invisible guard; Sasuke didn't want to be accused of an assassination attempt. Naruto looked up from his paperwork, a grin already smeared across his face.

"I knew you'd be into it!"

Sasuke's answering look wasn't particularly impressed, but it never was. Still, there was a part of him that marveled at Naruto's continuing faith in him because Sasuke wasn't sure he was making the right choice. He’d been wrestling with Naruto’s suggestion for a while.

"Come, sit." Naruto waved a hand toward the chairs facing his desk, and all at once Sasuke was struck bemused; the idiot really did it. He'd become Hokage and a respected one at that. Sasuke would have bet against it, but there were a lot of things about his life now that he'd never imagined would be reality. He slid from the window into the office.

"There's, like, a thing or two I need you to sign…" Naruto trailed off, mumbling to himself as he dug through haphazard stacks of paperwork threatening to topple to the floor. Sasuke worked his way around the desk, picking the seat furthest from the Hokage's desk just to be contrary. Naruto shot him a copy-cat stare, equally as unimpressed as the one Sasuke had given him. It was all Sasuke could do not to shrug and smirk. Some things never changed.

Naruto kept chattering, keeping a friendly air in the office. Sasuke didn't pay much attention, if only because the Hokage was talking so fast that he wouldn't get a word in anyway. Instead, his thoughts turned once again inward.

It was no secret that Uchiha and the Anbu had a rough history. Clashes between the clan-dominated Konoha Military Police Force and the elite ops had been fairly frequent; he could still remember his father bitching at the dinner table about their lack of jurisdiction over the Anbu. There was also the lingering bitterness of losing his entire clan on Anbu orders, more or less.

On the other hand, maybe the opportunity would bring him closer to his niisan. After all, he’d chosen this path for himself. The truth about Itachi's life- how he'd sacrificed everything not only for Sasuke but for a village he'd never stopped believing in- had left a hole in Sasuke's chest. That hole now housed a tangled knot of anger, guilt, and perfidy. Maybe if he walked the same footsteps, he wouldn't feel so choked by the past.

He'd never once thought about joining Anbu, though, at least not until Naruto had brought it up. He hadn't thought about _anything_ since returning to Konoha— especially anything that had to do with moving forward. Maybe doing something for the people he’d hurt, even for just a little bit, would be a good change of pace. They didn’t have to trust him, or even forgive him, but it might help him find some measure of peace.

He broke his silence. "Could I quit?"

Naruto looked up from his increasingly frantic search, and lifted a single eyebrow. "Quit what? Being Anbu?"

Sasuke nodded, not bothering to elaborate. Naruto, somehow still used to that despite months and years apart, inferred what he needed to know from the growing silence. "I'll let you quit if you hate it, but you have to give it two years."

The silence soured.

"Fine," Naruto sighed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair. "A year, then. I already know you'll end up liking it, but you can't get there if you don't give it a chance!"

Sasuke sighed, knowing well when to pick his battles with Naruto. This wasn’t one he’d win, even if he had the energy to fight it. "Alright."

Naruto's grin returned, nearly blinding. "Besides, you want to do this. Otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up!" He was right, but that didn't mean he had to say it out loud, _or_ be so damn smug about it.

Sasuke's scowl deepened.

Any reply he was working up to, though, was cut off as the office door slid open and a hint of cigarette smoke twisted through the air. Naruto looked up, momentarily distracted from their bickering. "Oh, Shikamaru."

Sasuke shifted just a little deeper in his seat, his expression shifting to blank. Naruto might have never lost faith in him, but the jury was still out for everyone else. The smell of smoke deepened until Sasuke knew Nara was standing just behind his shoulder. That, and he could feel a familiar calculating glare between his shoulder blades.

If Naruto noticed the ripening tension in the room, he didn't show it. "I can't find…" He ducked under the desk, and the other men in the room waited as the sound of frantically shuffling papers filled the room. "I'm looking for the Shinobi Reassignment Form," he announced, popping back up.

Shikamaru moved toward the desk; the ashy smell collecting behind Sasuke’s shoulder dissipated. "Form 27B?" His voice was deeper than Sasuke remembered. Naruto nodded. Shikamaru shifted, stroking his chin in contemplation. Sasuke resisted rolling his eyes.

If Naruto were only half as organized as he was competent, Sasuke would've already been on his way. But he wasn't, so Sasuke was stuck waiting.

Shikamaru tipped his head to the side, considered the Hokage's desk with keen eyes, and then bent down to one of the lower drawers before reappearing with the form.

"You're a lifesaver," Naruto breathed, grabbing the sheet from his aide.

Shikamaru nodded, half a smile on his face. "I know. That's why you hired me— for my impressive resume: genius," he ticked off his fingers, "and lifesaver."

Sasuke repressed another eye roll and waited as Naruto read over the paper, signed it with his messy scrawl, and slid it across the desk toward his best friend. "Okay, teme, sign here, and I’ll take care of the rest."

After the barest hint of hesitation, Sasuke added his signature without flourish and passed the form back. Naruto's grin widened, and he handed Shikamaru the paper to file away while ignoring his scowl of disapproval. "You're basically officially Anbu." He clapped his hands together, delighted that his idea was proceeding as planned. "Wanna go out to celebrate? Dinner's on me!"

He knew accepting the invitation meant they'd end up sitting at the counter at Ichiraku, but somehow he couldn't find a "no" inside of him.

* * *

One bowl of ramen turned into two, turned into drinks, turned into the two of them stumbling (or rather, Naruto stumbling and Sasuke dutifully holding him up as best he could with one arm) down the slowly emptying streets of Konoha. Sasuke was strangely relieved that he couldn't see fear or disgust on anyone's face if they did happen to look over. They trusted him if only because they trusted their Hokage. It had to be some sort of irony that Sasuke was on the outside and Naruto was on the inside, so different from how it'd been when they were kids.

But no, that was his own fault, wasn't it? He'd done this, and… he still wasn't sure if he'd been entirely wrong. At least, not in all of it; regardless of circumstance, Konoha had opted to destroy an entire clan. Surely that was justification in part.

Naruto, arm slung across his friend’s shoulder, was unaware of the dark slant in Sasuke's thoughts. His head lolled and that stupid, nearly permanent grin split his face. "'S'was a good idea, huh, Sasuke-kun?" The term of endearment rolled off his tongue so easily that Sasuke's step stuttered and Naruto tilted dangerously toward the ground.

"Watch it!" Naruto whined. It was enough to get Sasuke walking again, but it didn’t ease his troubled thoughts.

Truthfully, his mind hadn't been a peaceful place since that first thread had been pulled and his life unraveled around him. Every frayed impulse he'd ever given into had circled back to the cries of his long-dead clanmates, and their blood he still saw spattered around the village. When he was younger, he'd thought that finding his revenge would help him put the tired story to rest. He’d hoped he could find some peace.

He'd been a fool. He still was a fool.

He couldn't seem to bury that unrest that twisted around and around in his head, tangling with every shameful decision he'd made throughout his life, gnawing at him until he was frustrated and unsure if he even deserved the moment he was living in. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to, or if he'd ever _deserve_ —

"Ne, Sasuke, what's with that stupid look on your face?" Naruto's breath puffed against Sasuke's cheek, warm and damp. "Do girls really find all that scowling attractive? Especially combined with that duck-ass hair?" He clumsily reached up to ruffle Sasuke's hair, and there was nothing Sasuke could do but let him, scowling deeper.

"Do that again, and I'm dropping your dumb ass and walking home by myself. You can call Hinata or Nara to come get you."

Naruto laughed and settled back against Sasuke's shoulder. "Glad you're back," he replied, and that was the last thing they said as they passed under yellow street lamps.

* * *

Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning when the moon was still hanging in the sky and most of the village's districts were quiet, Sasuke would try to pinpoint his guard-detail. Anbu operatives were experts at masking their presence, but he'd spent years of his life as a tracker of sorts.

(Itachi, to his credit, had made Sasuke's inevitable revenge as slow in coming as he possibly could. He’d evaded Sasuke at every possible turn until… Until.)

Nowadays, there wasn't much else to do besides practice and keep his skills sharp. He wouldn’t want to further disgrace the Uchiha name by embarrassing himself in the field.

Most of the time, his tracking exercise was met with failure. He'd squint up into a treeline or a recessed window sill and swear he could just make out the shape of a porcelain-masked watcher. He was never completely confident in his assessments, but he never really tried very hard, either.

Now, he wanted to.

Sasuke made his way to Konoha's yūkaku. It was active late into the night, with yūjo flirting at passersby from behind their painted fans. Men and women alike- the majority shinobi- drifted between toruko-buro and pink salons with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, eager to drown themselves in pleasure and affection. It didn't matter that in the morning they would return to the harsh realities of a post-war nation. Tonight, they would enjoy themselves. Sasuke wondered how many of the shinobi assigned to watch him from the shadows made regular visits to the district. Anbu, as far as he knew, were supposed to forsake human emotions, weren't they?

He chose a spot against a quieter building, a tea house for the lonely who wanted conversation, too. The sound of someone plucking softly at a sangen drifted through the open windows, and the smell of jasmine hung like a shroud around the café. It was almost relaxing, and all at once, the long day caught up with him. His chakra dampener felt heavy and warm around his wrist. The deadly seal between his shoulders itched. He couldn't sleep, but he really needed to.

Sasuke took another moment to collect himself, before focusing on the little chakra reserves he had available. He didn't have enough to activate his Sharingan, but he'd long since learned never to rely solely on his dōjutsu for anything. Eyes could be stolen, but inherent skills were irreplaceable.

Breathing deep, Sasuke centered himself. He shrugged everything else off, focusing on the flow of chakra around him. Konohagakure was a living network of glowing threads. As Sasuke concentrated, colors bloomed behind his eyelids. Shimmery blossoms moved back and forth, splashes of green, pink, purple, blue. Even the civilians had their own faint auras, manifestations of their lifeforce. As the energy moved and wavered, it bounced off of buildings and streetlights, painting an inverse picture of the district in Sasuke's mind.

The longer Sasuke held his focus, the wider the picture became. Trees in the distance fulgurated, winking in and out as he pushed for more clarity; silhouettes of apartment towers in the district over manifested against the starless sky in Sasuke's imagination. Minutes crawled by until he was able to pinpoint two blank spaces in the tableau, roughly human-shaped. They flanked him to the right and the left, and if he were to guess, there was probably one more guard somewhere behind him to make a rough triangle. After another moment, the figure to the left stood from its crouch and offered a small, mocking wave. Scowling, Sasuke opened his eyes, and the watercolor panorama dissipated. Apparently, at least one of the Anbu had guessed at what he was doing. The last thing he needed was some paranoid counselor down his throat, looking for a nefarious plot that wasn't there.

With a sigh, Sasuke pushed himself from the wall and started toward his apartment. It’d been decided after his trial that Sasuke wasn't allowed back into the Uchiha compound— at least until he submitted to a lengthy round of psychological evaluations. Naruto had argued that neither Uchiha Madara nor Uchiha Obito was still skulking around, and even if they were, Sasuke had proven that his clan's Curse of Hatred had been broken; he wasn’t at risk of snapping. But with half their village in a crater and too many loved ones dead, no one else was willing to place that same unshakable trust in Sasuke. Naruto was outnumbered, so he'd backed down. Sasuke wasn’t willing to undergo therapy.

 _"At least it's got a television!"_ was the only consolation he'd been given beyond a too-enthusiastic slap on the back. Sasuke had yet to turn it on.

As he drew near the featureless flats, the village began waking up. Smoke drifted through the air from restaurants and homes, as people prepared for breakfast. Lamps winked out as the sun warmed the horizon, inky black giving way to a yawning pink. He'd passed through another night without a nightmare, though exhaustion wasn't long behind the feat. It was a vicious cycle of his own creation, but he wasn't ready to face the aftermath of his transgressions just yet. He was still struggling with the rolling waves of distrust and animosity that poured from the general public whenever his name was mentioned. He wasn't ready to listen to the wails of every life snuffed out by his own hand, through his machinations. Their ghosts already teased the edges of his vision when he wasn't paying attention.

 _Maybe tomorrow,_ he kept telling himself, but then he'd let another day bleed into itself. He was a mess on all fronts, but he thought he was doing a good enough job keeping himself together.

His steps slowed as he approached his front door. He'd left it unlocked; few would dare break in, and if they did… it was a fight Sasuke would be more than happy to oblige. As he grabbed the doorknob, he closed his eyes and focused one more time. A different facet of the village swam around him, with the same two blank spaces. They'd oriented themselves around him, but the third guard he was sure existed was still nowhere to be seen.

With a shrug, Sasuke pushed the door open.

The air in his apartment was sterile, the scent of fresh paint still hanging around. The flat was brand new, and the all-white interior was spotless. The space was completely undisturbed because he barely lived in it. The carpet in his bedroom didn't have a single stain on it, and the white marble in the kitchen was equally spotless. Dust motes didn't dance in the warming morning air.

But something was amiss.

He thought for a moment about going back outside and sending a message to Naruto. That thought turned into him imagining Nara getting the message instead, and he quickly decided to just handle things himself. Even with dampeners, Sasuke was confident the situation would prove to be nothing more than a minor annoyance.

Carefully, he padded toward the kitchen and pulled up short.

Hatake Kakashi stood with a hip against the stove, whistling off-key as he fried an egg that Sasuke knew hadn't come from his empty fridge. He was dressed in grey and black, and a fox mask was pushed into his hair. Several kunai glinted dangerously in the holster at his thigh.

Sasuke lingered in the hallway, wary. The last time he'd truly spoken to Kakashi as a comrade, he'd been tied to a tree while a man he barely respected had tried to impress upon him the importance of not letting one's past consume them. It was advice that Sasuke had thoroughly ignored, both because he thought he knew better and felt that Kakashi wasn't old enough to be teaching anyone anything. Their already-strained relationship had dissolved into a series of bloody fights and biting repertoire, and even after being returned to Konoha, Sasuke hadn't sought him out.

Now, he was here in Sasuke's kitchen. He was whistling, but the hair on the back of Sasuke's neck prickled with something familiar and almost-deadly. When Kakashi turned around, though, the shape of a smile dented his mask.

"Maa, Uchiha-san," he drawled as he plated the egg on the equally unused dining table. "I let myself in. I hope you don't mind." The way he said it made it clear that, actually, he didn't care either way. Rather, he took a seat and wordlessly waited for Sasuke to join him, brow quirked in challenge.

Sasuke stood wordlessly in the hallway for another long moment, trying to figure out exactly what in the hell was going on. His expression (hopefully) betrayed nothing, but his mind worked as quickly as it could in his exhaustion. Part of him thought, perhaps, Kakashi was looking for something like reconciliation; Naruto had. Maybe he'd been waiting for Sasuke to approach him with an overdue apology. Kakashi knew him at least a little better than that, though. No, it had to be something typically unfathomable, and Sasuke would never know what until he sat down and listened.

He hated being cornered.

He carefully took the seat opposite Kakashi and waited. Despite the food in front of him, Kakashi didn't eat. Instead, he assessed Sasuke with an intensity that bordered on animosity. Sasuke didn't blink. Instead, he lifted his own brow to match the challenge. Finally, Kakashi leaned back in his chair.

"We've never been close, have we, Sasuke- _kun_?" The affectionate honorific had an unpleasant edge, almost mocking. Sasuke didn't bother answering; Kakashi knew the answer.

A memory lingered at the edge of Sasuke's mind, a confrontation that had happened little more than a year ago:

_Jagged tree trunks ringed the clearing around them. Smoke curled up from the smoldering grass like incense. The air was charged with static and the tang of ozone, almost like copper and lavender mingled. The sky overhead sparked, lighting up the turbulent, roiling clouds as if they were feeding off of the anger below. It illuminated the ground in brief flashes, though the flickering darkness was nothing to the three Sharingan below as they swirled in lazy, calculating whorls._

_"Look how carelessly you've hurt your friends, Uchiha_ no kimi _." Kakashi's lazy drawl had a predatory edge to it, like a kitsune setting up its next trick. The honorific was mocking. Oh, how high and mighty the last surviving Uchiha thought he was, and yet it was his blood on the ground, too. Even princes were nothing but rotten, mortal flesh. "You're making me feel as if I failed you." Sasuke could see the way his lips twisted into a mournful frown against his ragged mask. He did love his drama._

_Sasuke's smirk was sharp, pointed. He held his sword loosely at his side, tip angled down. They knew this confrontation wouldn't come down to bukijutsu; that had simply been foreplay. The sound of steel against steel, the flying sparks, and the ache in their arms had been the backdrop as they tested for each other's weaknesses. Now, high on adrenaline and sanguinity, they discarded their weapons and called upon the Lightning Release technique in tandem. The shriek of birds was deafening as twin Chidori rent the air._

_Sasuke didn't bother raising his voice to be heard over the snapping lightning; Kakashi's (pathetic) Sharingan could read his lips. "You put too much pressure on yourself, sensei. I've only ever seen you as the Hokage's loyal lapdog, and a stain on the Uchiha legacy."_

_Kakashi moved first, prefaced by a crashing tsunami of killing intent. Sasuke tisked._ Predictable.

_It was too easy to rile his former comrades; they were too emotional, too conscious of their own flaws. It made them sloppy and vulnerable. Even the legendary copy-nin was no different, and what was why they could never understand him. He left because they had nothing for him. He'd long ago exceeded them, and now existed worlds apart._

_Their continued confrontations were nothing but a distraction, a brief interlude before Sasuke finally realized his destiny and rewrote the world itself._

_He tensed minutely as Kakashi swept toward him, Chidori screaming. Sasuke wondered idly in the closing milliseconds if Kakashi really thought he could kill him like he so desperately wanted to. He wondered if Kakashi showed this side of himself to Naruto or Sakura. He wondered if they knew that Friend-Killer Kakashi was alive and well. He was just carefully hidden until the secret, unwitnessed moments that Sasuke triggered his reawakening._

_His focus shifted back to his opponent's rapid approach. He pushed himself forward, ready to meet Kakashi and strike first. But as soon as he was in motion, Kakashi pulled up short and flashed a sign, and then another. Belatedly, Sasuke read the hand signs for what they were, and before he could sidestep, a spear of lightning shot through him. It pierced him just above his clavicle, inches from his neck. Blood sizzled as the electricity nearly instantly cauterized the wound, and then came the pain. His own Chidori cracked and faded, leaving the clearing quieter and darker. He ground his teeth as he struggled to keep his vision from tunneling. Maybe Tobi was right, and he needed to take his brother's eyes._

_No. He'd been through worse. This was_ nothing _. He snarled, bared teeth pinked with his blood._

_Thunder rumbled overhead like the roiling storm was a congregation of great beasts, primed for violence. Kakashi skipped back, the barest hint of a triumphant sneer already fading behind his mask. "That looks like it hurts." Rain broke the clouds, catching both of them in a sudden, torrential downpour._

_The taunt was enough to launch Sasuke forward, pride stung and shoulder screaming. He moved through the hand signs for the Great Fireball Technique. His hands blurred and then he drew a single hand up to his mouth and exhaled. A massive conflagration billowed across the clearing, hot enough to evaporate the rain as it fell. Steam hissed as it bit into the inferno as it dissipated. A wave of exhaustion hit Sasuke as he realized how much chakra his eyes and his attack had drained from him. But they weren't finished._

_Four shuriken silently tore through the smoke. Sasuke rolled out of the way, his vision whiting out as his wounded shoulder contacted the ground. The shuriken embedded into the trees behind him, clustered tightly. Staggering to his feet, Sasuke quickly threw a handful of senbon in return. He threw them wildly, but still heard a faint grunt through the thinning smoke. Trying to control his heaving breath, he called out._

_"You'd better hurry, Hatake-san. Your teammates should be waking up soon. You don't want them to see you like this, do you? I wonder how Sakura would react to your bloodlust. Do you think she'd recommend you for evaluation?"_

_He could feel the fury pouring off of Kakashi in crackling waves, and felt a smug sense of satisfaction in return. He opened his mouth for another taunt, just as a Kakashi reached for more projectiles, but a shout rent their confrontation._

_"Sasuke! Are you okay?!" A streak of red blurred past Sasuke as Karin took up a defensive position in front of him, kunai at the ready. Suigetsu strolled up beside her lazily. His sword was strapped to his back and his hands were stuffed into his pockets. Team Hebi had arrived._

_A peal of thunder broke the last of the spell still holding Sasuke and Kakashi to their savagery. Kakashi, eyes narrowed, took a step back. Karin studied him for a moment before accepting the stalemate. Kakashi blurred, shunshining out of sight to collect Naruto's and Sakura's limp forms. A hand pressed into Sasuke's upper arm, and then he was flickered away, too._

The memory faded. Sasuke shifted slightly in his seat, focusing back on Kakashi still watching him. He wasn't sure which of them was the coiled snake, ready to strike. "No," he finally answered. "Not particularly."

Kakashi didn't seem bothered by Sasuke's drifting. Maybe Naruto had told him about it, how it was now just a part of who he was. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone knew, what with how the orange idiot ran his mouth. Sakura had already approached him about it and asked him if he wanted her to give him a scan. He'd managed to keep his tongue in cheek when he'd told her he was fine; he really didn't want to deal with her or her girlfriend's anger.

"That's what I tried to tell our esteemed Hokage." Kakashi sighed and leaned back in his chair. His expression was theatrically put-upon like he was still dealing with a rowdy handful of genins. "But you know how he is."

Sasuke wasn't quite following along. He was tired, and a headache was forming behind his eyes. An overdue hangover was finally catching up to him. "Sure," he finally offered, voice neutral. Kakashi knew him, though. He knew that Sasuke had no idea why he was there. He knew Sasuke had no idea what he was talking about. Sasuke knew that he knew, and that made the whole situation just a little more unbearable than he would have found it under normal circumstances.

The egg had stopped steaming, and the edge of the yolk was starting to darken and congeal. "Do you think Orochimaru lobotomized you somewhere between all those experiments?"

Sasuke looked up from the plate, anger flashing in his eyes. "What?"

"Exactly what I said. Do you think you're more stupid now than you were before you left the village? Because I can't recall the young Uchiha legacy being this slow." Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "Then again, my memory might be failing in my old age."

"Do you mind getting to the point, old man? I've had a long night, and I'd like to rest."

Quicker than his signature lightning, Kakashi leaned over the table and caught Sasuke's chin roughly. "I think the first habit I'll have to break is your mouth. Who taught you to be so disrespectful, Uchiha no kimi?"

Sasuke jerked back with a snarl. The address echoed from his memory. He'd heard it before; Kakashi wasn't the only person to call him a princeling. His attitude was well-known; it made itself apparent within the first moments of meeting him. But Kakashi seemed to take particular offense to it.

He stayed braced over the table, his one visible eye pinning Sasuke where he sat. "What the hell was that?" Sasuke snapped, wishing not for the first time that he had full access to his chakra stores. He sorely wanted a rematch all of the sudden.

"It seems that Hokage-sama was saving the surprise for later." Kakashi leaned in close, and as much as Sasuke wanted to stand and put some distance between them, he didn't let himself move a muscle. Kakashi let a pause build, tense and crackling with static. "It _seems_ that you've been thrust into my care yet again."

Kakashi moved suddenly, pulling back and gliding over toward the open window he must have used to enter the apartment. There was a black duffel bag resting underneath the ledge. Sasuke wondered how he hadn't noticed it until Kakashi grabbed for it. It occurred to him latterly that Kakashi must have been the mysterious third member of his guard.

Another realization made itself at home in his sluggish head. "I suppose you're my new captain. Naruto must have thought I'd be more comfortable with someone I know." He snorted.

Kakashi didn't bother confirming it; it was obvious. Instead, he pulled a black and grey uniform from the bag and tossed it on the table. A porcelain mask joined it a second later. Sasuke's stomach dropped. Ancient memories threatened to surface, faded and sepia at the edges.

_Don't cry, Sasuke. Your big brother is here to protect you, no matter what happens._

_To test the limits of my ability._

_The village does have its dark side and its inconsistencies, but I'm still Konoha's Itachi Uchiha._

"Is this some sort of joke, Hatake?"

"Hatake-taichō." His voice was silky, like he was inviting Sasuke to challenge him again. "And no. I don't get to select my subordinates' masks. The commander makes those decisions, and generally, they're randomly assigned. Bad luck, huh?"

Sasuke didn't reply. He was focused on the mask. It stared back up at him, and he couldn't decide if it was threatening, mocking, or if he was finally going insane.

When he looked back up, Kakashi was already halfway out of the window. "Please try your best not to be late to our first squad meeting. I'm sure we can't have a worse opinion of you, but at least try to be considerate, little prince."

Then, he was gone.

Sasuke left the mask and uniform where they laid. He closed the window and set the untouched egg in the sink. He'd deal with that later after he'd taken a short nap. There was a lot he could put off until he rested for a little while. His eyelids felt heavy. The last twenty-four hours had thrown a lot at him, though arguably, he deserved it. He deserved… well, a lot more. Still, all of it could wait.

Before he made his way to his cold bed, he made sure to lock the windows and door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that most of y'all know what these words means, but I just want to make sure that this fic is as accessible as it can be!
> 
> **Glossary**
> 
> • _kata:_ a system of individual training exercises for practitioners of karate and other martial arts  
> • _dobe:_ Japanese slang word for "idiot" or "dead last"  
> • _teme:_ Japanese word for "bastard"  
> • _tokujō:_ short for "tokubetsu jōnin," or a jōnin with specialized knowledge rather than all-around skills  
> • _yūkaku:_ legal red-light districts in Japanese history  
> • _yūjo:_ a title referring to "common" sex workers, as opposed to high-ranking courtesans  
> • _toruko-buro and pink salon:_ different types of businesses offering sexual favors (Feel free to Google the specifics yourself!)  
> • _sangen:_ a three-stringed traditional Japanese musical instrument, also known as a shamisen  
> • _dōjutsu:_ ninja abilities that utilize the eyes, and are generally imparted to the user through genetics  
> • _bukijutsu:_ a ninja's use of weaponry in combat  
> • _shunshin:_ the Japanese term for the Body Flicker Technique 


	2. What You Sow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who’s shown interest in my first chapter! It’s really exciting that I’m not the only one who wants this story to happen. I’m having a really great time writing it!
> 
> Just as a general heads up, I’m trying for two or so chapters a month. I don’t want to burn myself out or make something fun into a chore. Thank you for all your lovely comments and kudos! It really keeps my motivation up.
> 
> Lastly, if there are any tropes or minor plot points that you’d like to see, please let me know! Happy holidays!

“A cat, huh?” The crow sitting across the table studied Sasuke with an idle intensity that made his skin prickle. Sasuke met his eyes with a bored sort of expression as if he wasn’t terribly bothered with being scrutinized. It wasn’t hard to imagine that after weeks of being on trial, he was used to being visually dissected. He was nothing if not willing to use his trauma as a weapon. Finally, Crow broke the stare and backed down into something less interrogatory.

“You’ve really got that vacant feline stare down,” he added, and Sasuke couldn’t help but lour behind his mask.

Was being an insufferable asshole one of the requirements for Anbu? Between Kakashi, Crow, and the bear mask who’d nearly-immediately made a joke about Sasuke’s callsign being “Pussycat” when Kakashi had introduced him, Sasuke was starting to think so.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a scout, would you? Maybe an intelligence agent?” Sasuke kept his voice bored, unimpressed, but Crow laughed.

“How’d you guess?” He tipped his head to the side, and with the messy shock of dark hair exploding back from his mask, he really did look a bit like a bird. Sasuke had to wonder if masks were chosen to match their wearers, or if the owners adopted complementary habits to suit. His easy-going, unchallenging demeanor allowed Sasuke to relax, if only marginally. After all, he knew from intimate experience that some birds were very, very dangerous. 

“It was your _flawless_ observational abilities. Very impressive.” Sasuke kept his tone droll; he didn’t want Crow to know he enjoyed a bit of banter, of no-stakes repartee. It made him feel a little bit like an actual person, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed that feeling. It was a little bit embarrassing.

“Glowing praise from the last Uchiha!” Bear, who’d been listening to the conversation, slapped the table in time with his baritone guffaw. “How does it feel, Crow?” 

Crow tipped his head to the other side, settling his shoulders as he sunk into consideration. A smile was evident in his voice. “Pretty damn good, honestly. Do you think I can use it as a reference for promotion?”

Bear snorted, amused by the idea. “I think you should try it, and I’d really like to be there when you do.” 

Sasuke didn’t. He’d had a meeting with the Anbu commander earlier in the day, but it’d been less of an exchange and more of Sasuke getting chewed out and “put in his place” before the door closed behind him. He imagined that if Crow mentioned the word “Uchiha” within 20 yards of the commander, he’d end up cleaning the headquarters’ bathrooms for at least a month.

Bear and Crow continued cracking jokes at Sasuke’s expense until Kakashi opened the door- late as usual- and took up a position at the front of the room. Immediately, the two fell quiet. The focus in the room sharpened, and Sasuke was latently, distantly, and most of all, begrudgingly impressed with the respect Hatake commanded. Then again, Kakashi had survived a confrontation with a god just as much as he and Naruto had. Kakashi even managed to be fairly useful during the ordeal.

“Now that we’ve all made friends with each other,” the kitsune drawled, breaking Sasuke’s train of thought, “we have a mission to discuss.”

“Seriously?” Bear groaned, leaning back in his chair with a put-upon sigh. “We were _just_ getting used to bumming around the village, looking after Pointy. Guess it was stupid of us to get complacent, huh?”

“I don’t know why you’re saying ‘us’,” Crow griped, and which Bear largely ignored. 

“Am I Pointy?” Sasuke asked Crow, who nodded gravely as if to say _“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”_ Sasuke turned back to the front.

He’d already had the hunch that Bear and Crow had been the ones primarily assigned to be his guard. While Anbu operatives were supposed to remain anonymous even to each other, it made the most sense to put the former traitor with people who’d spent the better part of a year watching his every move; it gave them at least something of an advantage if they needed to use it. The only part that bothered him was that he wasn’t allowed to know Bear’s or Crow’s identities in return. At least Kakashi knew what that was like; most people took one look at his mane of silver hair and immediately knew who was behind his mask.

The fox cleared his throat, and order returned as eyes swung back to the front. Kakashi continued. “The commander wants to test out how we’ll work with our newest member. If the mission goes according to plan, then he’s one of us and that dampener comes off. Then, he might even be actually useful.”

Sasuke sat up a little straighter. “I thought I was already officially Anbu.” There was an edge to his voice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

Crow learned toward Sasuke with a smile hidden behind his beak. Sasuke could hear it in his voice, somewhat gentle and more than a little condescending. “Ah, don’t worry, Neko-tan. This is just a formality every rookie has to go through. Bear and I had to do it, too. After all, if you can’t play nice with the team, then what good are you?”

Bear nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Gotta make sure you didn’t get in through luck or fucking the right person, either. We’re gonna be there to help you, though, so try not to have a panic attack.”

Sasuke shot Bear a lethal glare, though it only earned him a laugh. 

“Kitty’s got claws.”

Sasuke resisted the urge to flip him an obscene gesture as Kakashi sighed like an exhausted father. Still, it was enough to satisfy Sasuke, at least for the moment. This wouldn’t be the first time he had to jump through hoops to get what he wanted. He’d noticed that they hadn’t mentioned the seal on his back or transplanting an arm; he’d be stupid to think they’d give his body back so soon, but it was a start.

“Here’s the dossier. It’s a simple elimination mission.” Kakashi tossed a manila folder onto the table in front of him. Photos slid from the folder, revealing snapshots of snow, cliffsides, and bleak skies. “A ronin from the Land of Iron is making trouble for merchants and their shipments. Iron’s daimyō wants to ignore the problem since the target keeps crossing the border back and forth; he’s afraid of international entanglements. The taishō seems content to see how the problem develops before he intervenes. That, or he keeps forgetting the problem exists.”

Sasuke listened carefully to Kakashi, but only half of his attention was reserved for the briefing and its need-to-know information. Instead, most of his focus was spent on comparisons between the genin squad leader he used to know, the feral jōnin he had confronted again and again, and the relaxed silver fox in front of him now. Were they different people? Were there others like him who experienced all three? How hard did Kakashi have to work to keep them separate?

And why was Sasuke so interested in the many lies of Hatake Kakashi?

Eventually, he tuned back into the matter at hand. Kakashi was still talking, but the focal point of the meeting had become a map on the wall behind him. It was dotted with small pins and hastily sketched symbols; they were simple enough that Sasuke could figure out what they meant even though he hadn’t been listening. The ronin had been busy, it seemed.

“Said problem is affecting the Land of Fire which, obviously, is an issue. Without necessary resources, we- and our fellow nations- are unable to complete reconstruction. We’re being dispatched to covertly and discreetly take the ronin out; it’s the easiest way to take care of the problem.

“Ideally, the Land of Iron will be unable to connect it to any particular shinobi nation, and the issue stops there. I can’t imagine they’d pursue it further, but...” He shrugged. “Can’t be too careful.”

Crow nodded, seemingly satisfied with the plan. Sasuke couldn’t really poke holes in it, either. No assassination was air-tight, but their mission wasn’t especially delicate. All they needed to do was slip in, commit discreet murder, and slip out without being seen. He couldn’t imagine that the Land of Iron would be interested in investigating the death, either. 

“Seems easy enough,” Bear echoed, tipping his chair back with one foot on the table. 

Kakashi rolled his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “The only catch is that the village won’t be providing our supplies— not officially, anyway.”

“Can’t have missing kunai on file if we get caught, eh?” Crow didn’t seem distinctly put out by the idea.

“Exactly. If the mission goes the way it’s meant to, we get recouped. No big deal. Now, if you need me to finance you, well… you can ask me nicely. A ‘pretty please’ might work.” He let silence reign for a beat, and in that space, Sasuke realized the floor had been opened to questions and comments. 

Kakashi was looking straight at him, too.

Sasuke was grateful for the mask covering his face because he could feel the angry heat pooling in his cheeks.

It made sense that Kakashi would be well aware of the fact that Sasuke hadn’t been allowed access to the Uchiha inheritance. Instead, he’d been receiving a small monthly allowance, and it was hardly enough to outfit himself for a mission.

Naturally, Kakashi wasn’t letting the opportunity pass. He was, after all, a complete bastard. Sasuke wouldn’t put it past Kakashi to put him on his knees. 

He was almost certain he’d rather fight a ronin with his bare hand than do that. 

The meeting didn’t last much longer after that. When it became clear that Sasuke wasn’t going to (willingly) embarrass himself and no one else had any questions, Kakashi dismissed the three of them. Crow and Bear immediately picked up on an apparently long-running exchange, making bets about the trouble they were sure to kick up in the Land of Iron.

“Bet Kitsune-taichō ends up needing to be carried home… again.”

“Payout won’t be good on that one. That man doesn’t fear chakra exhaustion.”

Sasuke didn’t try to keep pace with them, and they didn’t slow for him. Instead, they parted ways at the headquarters exit with friendly nods; Sasuke headed to his apartment while Crow and Bear kept bantering. 

The sun hung high in the sky, burning away shadows to give rise to the afternoon, but it couldn’t warm the sharp, wintery air. His eyes watered as he ran straight into it, but he barely noticed the wet tracks crawling across his face. Sasuke’s anger hadn’t faded since leaving the meeting, leaving Kakashi’s challenge behind. Instead, it burned low in his stomach as he made his way between rooftops. He avoided the crowds below with their coats drawn tight and their heads bowed against the bluster. He didn’t think anyone was in the mood for conversation, but he didn’t want to run the risk of saying the wrong thing just to get rid of the acrid burn in the back of his throat.

Sasuke landed on his balcony soundlessly and unlocked the patio door, sweat collected on his brow despite the freezing wind. The exercise hadn’t fully spent his irritation, but pulling off his mask and tossing it haphazardly on the sofa helped. It was like shedding a persona, and its emotions went with it when it was put away. Once they were gone, he could focus. He was stubborn. If Kakashi had plans to continue their enmity, Sasuke would meet his captain head-on— and he intended to win. His guilt had never been strong enough to turn him into a martyr. Besides, it’d been a while since he’d enjoyed a good fight.

He changed into something less conspicuous, shrugged on a coat and scarf, and headed back outside. 

Seasons within the Land of Fire reflected the intensity of its people. Summers were blazing, and winters were freezing. Spring and fall were all too brief for the respite they provided, and now autumn was loosening its grip on the village as winter surged forward. Sasuke tucked his one hand deep into his pockets, folded his shoulders, and headed toward one of the village’s more shinobi-oriented shōtengai.

Most shops were clustered around the center of town, built around the intersections of the two main roads running perpendicular through the village. Newer shops ringed the perimeter, while older buildings clustered in the very middle. Sasuke wasn’t interested in the commercial district, though. Rather, he made his way to the north side of the village, toward Sensō no Ichiba. The marketplace was said to be older than the village itself, though Sasuke wasn’t sure how accurate that claim was; it was older than his great grandparents at the very least. All that really mattered was that it was home to nearly everything a ninja could want or need. From specialized seal paper to obscure summons, everything was there if a person knew how to find it.

Since Sasuke wasn’t going to ask Kakashi to release some of his funds, he needed to figure out a way to get the supplies he needed. He didn’t need much; just a few projectiles, and perhaps a sword if he was clever.

He considered stealing what he needed but quickly discarded the idea. His second visit to Konoha’s prison would be much worse than the first, he imagined; he’d spent a fair amount of time antagonizing the guards outside his cell the first time around. No doubt they’d be eager to return the favor. No, he needed to find a less… unsavory way to get what he needed. Would casting a genjutsu on a shopkeeper be the same as stealing? He was out of practice when it came to sussing out the answer to complicated moral questions; he was too used to completely ignoring them and doing whatever he wanted instead. 

Sasuke walked slowly between the crowded stalls and storefronts, ignoring hawkers desperately pleading for attention. He wasn’t sure exactly who or what he was looking for, just that he’d know when he found it.

_Maybe I should settle for some of the cheap replicas they sell to civilians. I’m sure I could make that work. Might be worth it to piss off Hatake._

But if things went sideways, his cheap equipment would be easy to blame. He’d be stupid to give Kakashi that much ammunition against him, and then he’d never get his freedom. 

Sasuke made his way farther into the bloc, navigating aimlessly through pinched alleyways; they were hardly abandoned, and more than once, Sasuke had to squeeze past someone who thought it was fine to argue with a vendor in the middle of the tight space. Sasuke had never been expressly claustrophobic, but he still pulled his scarf away from his face for some extra breathing room. Almost immediately, someone called his name.

“Sasuke?” The voice was feminine, hesitant but not shy— like she wasn’t sure if she’d gotten the right person, but was committed to the discovery nonetheless. 

Sasuke turned around, expressionless. He still wasn’t quite ready to… experience another person, but he- not for the first time, lately and alarmingly- didn’t want to be rude. He was surprised to meet eyes with Tenten. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever traded two words with her back when he was a genin and they were sort of on the same side. 

“Oh, good. I thought it was you.” Tenten’s smile was soft, pink high in her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She lifted a hand in a small wave, though a frosty shiver had her shrinking back into her coat. He didn’t return the gesture. He felt like stopping was enough.

She was paused in the doorway of a shop like she was debating continuing their conversation and wasn’t yet sure it was a good idea. The sign above her head announced the shop as “Tamura’s” and the smell of iron and smoke drifted out to meet him. The ringing sound of metal on metal was faint enough that Tenten didn’t need to raise her voice to be heard.

A silence grew between them before Tenten realized that Sasuke wasn’t going to contribute to the conversation. At least, not yet. She cleared her throat.

“Are you… you’re looking for weapons?”

Sasuke could tell she had something on her mind, though he didn’t know her very well. She wore her feelings fairly openly, which he imagined was a habit she picked up from her years spent with Might Guy and Rock Lee. If she mentioned anything about “burning passion” or “youth,” he’d be sure to make a quick getaway.

After a moment, he answered the question behind the one she actually asked. “I’ve been assigned a mission by the Hokage. It’s something of a test of loyalty.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a dry, nearly humorless smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be monitored.” He wondered belatedly if there were still guards following him.

Tenten’s shoulders relaxed along with the knot between her brows. “I was that obvious, huh?” Her smile was sheepish. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Catching a traitor around the weapons district is cause for alarm.” He shrugged, his tone flat and uninflected. 

She nodded. “Alone, at least. Then again, I guess we wouldn’t see them, huh?” She didn’t seem too bothered by his casual use of the word “traitor.”

Another silence settled between them, just as awkward as the first, until Tenten stepped down from the doorway and into the street.

“Ah, I should get going. I’m meeting Sakura for dinner.”

But before Sasuke could walk away- thinking the not-quite-conversation was over- Tenten cleared her throat, clearly not finished speaking… for some reason. He turned his attention back to her, making sure to keep his expression carefully neutral.

“Actually, well, do you mind? This is sort of a strange request, but…” She wrung her hands together like she was at odds with herself. She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, before continuing. “Would you, um, meet Sakura for dinner? Instead of me? It’s not that I don’t want to go,” she clarified quickly, shaking her head. Sasuke could tell that Tenten was having a hard time explaining herself, that this was something she’d been thinking about and wrestling with for a while. She was seizing an opportunity, not making an impulsive decision.

“I know it’s a bit sudden and maybe sort of odd. It’s just that… I just think there’s some kind of closure she needs. It’s really affecting her. You know, the whole—” She waved a hand in the air, and it was obvious as to what she meant.

In the days following his return to Konohagakure, only Naruto had been a constant presence. Everyone else had kept their visits to his hospital bed, his cell, or his apartment brief, infrequent, and impersonal as possible— if they visited at all. Sakura had come around once or twice to make sure the wounds from his battles in the Valley of the End were healing correctly. She’d been distant with him; his delirious apology while he lay bleeding out hadn’t been enough to heal the chasm he’d torn between them.

Visiting with her over a meal didn’t seem like an ideal way to spend his afternoon, but once again, he found himself unable to decline. Instead, he nodded solemnly, much to Tenten’s surprise.

“Really? That’s great!” She clapped her hands together and smiled brightly. “I’ll even pay for it. Thanks so much, Sasuke. This is really going to help, I think.” Her expression was 

They parted ways quickly after that, with Tenten pressing a purple silk coin purse into his hand; it was embroidered with little gold fans that matched the gold clasp. It was small and heavy, jingling with change as she handed it over. She made sure to assure him had actual paper money within and not just loose change. Sasuke tucked the pouch into his coat pocket and made his way toward a yakiniku restaurant he vaguely remembered existing.

As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch Tenten looking for all the world like she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. Something twisted deep in his gut, not quite angry but not quite ashamed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Tenten didn’t exactly trust him where Sakura was concerned. Calling his treatment of his former teammate “unkind” was putting it lightly. At the time, he didn’t have the patience for her feelings. He’d been so blinded by his hurt, his quest for revenge, and his desperate need for answers that he couldn’t see how badly he hurt her. No, that wasn’t quite right. He knew how badly he’d been hurting Sakura; he just hadn’t cared. She- along with everyone else- had been justified collateral to him.

Would a conversation over dinner fix any of that? Tenten seemed to think it was a start, and she knew Sakura better than he did.

It was a strange thing to realize all of the sudden: the village and everyone in it had moved on around him, even as they were trying to bring him back.

He had a lot of catching up to do.

* * *

He’d only ever visited the restaurant once or twice, with any of his memories about it reduced to vague impressions. Still, the main dining room was small and tidy, and that made it easy for Sasuke to find Sakura fairly quickly. Sitting towards the back of the room, she was bent over a small table, flicking through some files that he assumed were hospital cases or medical research notes from Tsunade. The arm she’d created for Naruto seemed to be holding up, but Sasuke knew the former Fifth Hokage wasn’t taking any chances; experimental technology required years of observation, even after it was successful.

Sasuke briefly considered perhaps turning around and leaving the way he came before Sakura noticed him, but something drew him forward and into the seat across from her. Sakura looked up.

“Sasuke?” Her petal-pink brows were knit together in a tangle of confusion and wariness. He wasn’t sure if her curiosity or her self-preservation would win out, but after a moment, she set her papers down with practiced calm. “What are you doing here? Did something happen to Tenten?”

Sasuke shook his head, quick to assuage that fear before she could really react. “No, she’s fine. I ran into her at Tamura’s and she suggested that—”

“Let me guess.” Her smile was fond, though tinged with something like exasperation. “She sent you here for some… what has she been calling it? Closure?”

Sasuke nodded. “I think that’s exactly what she called it.”

There was already a tension building between them along with an awkward silence, like strangers forced to perform the waltz. The tips of his fingers and soles of his feet buzzed like they’d lost circulation; his head hurt a bit, too. Maybe he should have turned tail. But before he could start really formulating an escape, Sakura sighed.

“Closure,” she repeated to herself, a steely resolve underlying the word. “Okay, yeah. I mean, you’re here, right?” She didn’t sound particularly convinced, but she’d done a lot more with a lot less resolve in the past. Sasuke prepared himself for an impassioned mention of her feelings for him. Instead, she folded her hands and leaned forward on the table. A sense of deja vu rippled at the edge of his mind, vague memories of the morning before. 

“Sasuke, I don’t think we’ve ever really known each other,” she hesitated and then took a centering breath. “We weren’t ever friends.”

She didn’t ask for his reassurance or wait for his confirmation. It wasn’t a question, and she’d already found her own answers anyway. Their assignation was no more than a eulogy for an imagined relationship. He was surprised to find that he _felt_ something about it, but instead of analyzing it, he stayed disassociated with it. There would be another time for it.

“I’m not upset that you’re back,” she continued steadily, looking him squarely in his eyes. “But I’m not overjoyed either. I hope you’re honest about wanting to be here because we aren’t going to let him go through that again.” It sounded a bit like she’d practiced this speech, maybe imagined confronting him from a position of power. He could understand that. How many times had he done the same with Itachi?

He knew just by the way Sakura said it that the ‘him’ meant Naruto. The Konoha 11 (or 12 with Sai) had come together to form a family around Naruto. It reinforced itself with their animosity toward him, held in check only by Naruto’s obvious and unduplicitous camaraderie. They loved Naruto which meant that if Naruto loved Sasuke, they would respect that insofar as Sasuke didn’t abuse their friend. He was on thin ice and if it broke, they were more than willing to plug up the hole and leave him to drown.

She was right, too. They didn’t know each other. _They never had._ In their academy days, he hadn’t had any room for anyone but Itachi and Naruto in his head. Sakura had always been an afterthought, an annoyance as she clung to his sleeve as she tried to impress upon him the sincerity of her feelings. He’d shrugged her off time and time again as he tried to leave her behind. Now he was the one standing in the background while everyone had found their purposes together.

The silence between them deepened, but Sakura didn’t seem bothered. Instead, she turned her attention to ordering meat and vegetables. She didn’t bother with sets, instead meticulously selecting ingredients herself. Sakura chose the tare sauce and oriented her selection around it. A quiet server positioned himself on her side of the table and made his own suggestions, though Sasuke noted with a grimace that none of them were things he’d usually eat.

“Oh, and some tomatoes? Maybe some tuna?” Sakura added, almost like an afterthought. The server nodded and disappeared toward the back. “I forgot you don’t really like sweet things.” Her smile was mildly apologetic, but Sasuke didn’t get the sense that she was punishing him. Rather, she just… wasn’t thinking about him. That was new.

But Sasuke just shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m not the one paying for it.”

Once a server dropped off their order, Sakura busied herself with cooking. It brought to mind their academy days when Sakura and Ino would fight over who got to give a bento to him at lunch. He remembered them arguing over who’d put more time and effort into their lunchboxes, and he remembered being annoyed over it while Naruto tried to interject that _he’d_ forgotten his lunch so he could take one of the boxes. From there, it devolved into staticky fighting and he let the memory fade.

Sasuke scowled down at the pitted and scratched table. Sakura’s presence across from him was steady, and he could feel… something, but not much. When they were children, he used to get annoyed with how much she telegraphed herself. Anyone standing in a twelve-foot radius could gather her emotional state by her sheer force of projection. He was surprised to find that right then, he couldn’t pin down anything but the sheerest, flimsiest feeling of certainty, or maybe relief.

She was so different. Everyone was. Maybe he was the only one who was stuck in the semblance of who he was, might always be.

“You’re right,” Sasuke admitted, his voice coming out rougher than he expected. He cleared his throat, looking up. He didn’t bother with an apology. He didn’t know how to make one, not really, and he wasn’t sure Sakura wanted it anyway. Instead, he acknowledged his former teammate and waited for her to pass judgment. 

Smoke curled from the center of their table up into the air, accompanied by meat and fat sizzling. Sasuke’s stomach clenched; he hadn’t eaten since going out with Naruto. He seemed to lose swaths of time to… what? Trying to outwit the past? Dwelling on his wounds? 

Another heartbeat passed between them, and then Sakura nodded, once. She didn’t absolve him, because she didn’t have that power. She just nodded, pushed him a plate of steaming food, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I think Tenten was right. It doesn’t feel great when you don’t know where things stand, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand that.” A soft, wry smile bent his lips, and he picked up a pair of chopsticks. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Thanks for listening to me, finally.” She smiled back at him before focusing on her own plate. The fire in the middle of the table crackled softly, and conversations from other tables provided a comfortable backdrop as their own conversation turned to the mundane. Sakura chatted happily about happenstance and rumor she’d heard while doing her rounds in between mouthfuls. 

Sasuke listened, noting all of the little ways in which she wasn’t the Sakura that he’d gone to school with. The color in her cheeks was high, but not because she was nervous and shooting him sly, lovelorn glances; she was just _happy_ and it had nothing to do with him. He wondered how she’d found her way to that.

Occasionally, he added his own news or commentary. When he told her that he’d been tapped for a trial mission, she encouraged him.

“That’s great! That’ll go a long way towards people opening up to you.” She didn’t mention his duty to the village or atonement, even though he’d been braced for it. She didn’t mention any misgivings she might have had about sending an apocalyptic traitor back out into the world. 

His surprise twisted up his tongue for a moment, but he coughed softly into his sleeve and nodded. “Yeah. I’m hoping it’s not all an elaborate plan to execute me. We don’t have to go all the way up north. I’m fine with getting stabbed here.”

Sakura waved a hand. “They wouldn’t. Naruto mentioned something about making sure your team wasn’t native to the village so they wouldn’t have any personal grudges against you.”

Sasuke frowned, brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to ask the obvious, but Sakura beat him to it.

She ducked her head sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I stopped by his office last week, and he asked for some advice about who he should put with you. I swear we don’t just sit around and talk about you.”

Sasuke blew out a sharp breath, full of mock incredulity. Sakura laughed. “Seriously! I think we’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime.”

She hadn’t meant it to be a jab, but something in Sasuke’s chest clenched minutely. “Oh, by the way, Tenten says the meal is on her.” He fished the little purse out of his pocket and passed it to Sakura. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Sakura flushed a deeper pink, and then the lovelorn look he was used to glazed her face.

_Then it’s real_ , Sasuke decided, without judgment. Just simple realization. _She’s moved on completely._

Their meal came to a close shortly after, with Sakura using Tenten’s wallet to pay for the meal before sliding it into her own pocket. She was quick to reassure Sasuke that she’d give it back, even though he hadn’t made a comment (either verbally or through an arch expression). They parted ways without a hug and returned to their lives that weren’t quite so tangled together anymore.

Sasuke couldn’t decide how he felt about it, but he didn’t dwell much on the issue. There wasn’t much to be gained from wrestling with the aftermath of one of the many relationships he destroyed— if he ever really had any of those relationships in the first place.

The walk back to his aseptic dorm was colder than the journey into town. Clouds had crowded out the sun, casting everything into a ghostly wintertide pallor. The first snow hadn’t fallen yet, but the ground was frozen, anticipating. Sasuke could only imagine how frosty and unforgiving the Land of Iron would be once he and his new team got there. He could probably ask Naruto if he could look through some of his brother’s and father’s old clothes just so he didn’t have to buy anything new (and beg for more funds).

_Fuck._

Sasuke stopped walking, and something hopeless crossed his face like a specter of stupidity. 

He still didn’t have any weapons for his mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this chapter interesting to y’all? I’m trying to find a balance from the start where I don’t rush the story and the action, but things and thoughts still happen. Also, could you tell I was hungry while writing this?
> 
> Again, thank you all for your support!
> 
> **Glossary**
> 
> • _ronin:_ a samurai without a lord or master  
> • _daimyō:_ the political leader of a country within the Naruto universe  
> • _taishō:_ Japanese word for “general,” referring to Mifune  
> • _shōtengai:_ a style of Japanese commercial district, typically in the form of a local market street that is closed to car traffic  
> • _Sensō no Ichiba:_ translated roughly by a non-fluent Japanese speaker into “market of war;” it’s very clever of me, I know  
> • _genjutsu:_ a ninja technique that controls the chakra flow of a target's cerebral nervous system, thereby affecting their five senses  
> • _yakiniku:_ a specific type of restaurant that involves customers cooking small bits of meat and vegetables on a grill built into the table  
> • _tare:_ a general term in Japanese cuisine for sweet dipping-sauces often used in grilling  
> • _bento:_ a single-portion take-out or home-packed meal  
> 


	3. Burial Mound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a fool: I can get this chapter out in a week!
> 
> Me, still a fool but in present tense: Never listen to me again. I am full of lies and shame.

Loud, insistent knocking on the front door pulled Sasuke from an uncomfortable, contorted nap on his flat, hard couch in his small, cold living room. A dull and irritating throb hounded him from the base of his skull; he couldn’t tell if it was from sleeping poorly or if it was an actual headache. If it was a headache, he’d probably have to look into visiting the hospital. He’d been having too many lately and if he was going to die, Sasuke would much prefer it wasn’t to himself.

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, either. Considering the way he felt- groggy, disoriented, unhappy- it could have been minutes or hours. Maybe his dream had put him in a mood. It had been dynamic nonsense; disjointed pieces of his past interacted within a village that had never been destroyed. At one point, he was sure his mother had poked him in the forehead, and as far he knew, she’d never done that to him in his waking reality. Then, Naruto had transformed into a little yellow fox, stolen Sasuke’s remaining arm, and dashed off into a field of candy floss pink barley. He had chased the fox into the field, kicking up clouds of little birds, and had been a fingertip away from snatching his split tail when he’d been dragged back into bleary consciousness. Sasuke sat upright and rubbed his eyes one at a time. 

His living room was dark, but not pitch-black, and he wondered what time it was. There were no clocks in the living room, and he hazily told himself to remember to remedy that. Sasuke dragged himself to his feet so that he could push the curtains back and get a better sense of the day (or possibly night). Unfortunately, there were no answers to be had in the window. Snow had collected in the recessed panels, blocking out light and aspect. 

The television on the far wall provided some light as it crackled with static, and he navigated as best he could by its glow. It was relatively new technology at least as far as in-home use went, so there weren’t many programs on-air, and those were accompanied by swaths of nothing on at all. He couldn’t remember if he’d actually been watching anything before falling asleep, or if he’d just zoned all the way out to the buzzing white noise. 

As Sasuke turned off the television and flicked on a floor lamp, the knock sounded again and louder. Just as he really started warming up to the idea of completely ignoring his guest and waiting for them to give up and leave, Kakashi spoke through the door. “I know you’re in there, Uchiha. Open up.”

He didn’t completely abandon his ignoring idea, but Kakashi pounded louder and a new throb rolled across Sasuke’s forehead. _Suppose he’d find another way to break in._ After another second of deliberation, he opened the door with more force than necessary and came face-to-face with his commander. “What?”

Kakashi looked markedly put-together, considering the flurry of snow behind him. His clothes looked dry, and Sasuke suspected some type of minor fire jutsu and a bit of clever application (loathe as he was to give Hatake any credit). Shimmering flakes dusted his silver hair, and he didn’t bother shaking them off as he pushed his way into Sasuke’s apartment.

Sasuke, already irritated by his terrible nap, didn’t wait for Kakashi to announce his intentions. “I take it the window was too predictable for you this time?” At that moment, he sorely missed his other arm; crossing them would really punctuate his displeasure.

“Snowed in, actually.” He nodded toward the window Sasuke had revealed. “I didn’t feel like digging. I see you’ve learned to lock your door, though.”

Sasuke’s lips quirked down into an incredulous frown. “You tried to walk in without knocking?”

“At worst, I might have interrupted you and your oiran. I know you take trips to the red light district.”

His face flamed scarlet, and he tried not to let his features give him away any more than the blush did. “You know I wasn’t _with_ anyone. I was _practicing._ ”

“What else does a man do there _but_ practice?” Kakashi’s smirk was too smug for Sasuke’s liking. “I’m sure it’s paid off in spades.”

“Better than your books have, I bet.” He didn’t care that he was rising to the bait. 

“How would you know? Have you been reading _Icha Icha_ in your spare time?” Kakashi cast an obvious glance around the cramped living room, looking for orange-covered books that weren’t there. In fact, the only bookshelf in the whole apartment sat empty in the living room.

Sasuke opened his mouth to quip back, but thought better of it and closed it. Then, “Why are you here? We don’t leave until tomorrow morning.”

“That was the original plan, but that’s been changed. If we wait any longer, we’ll be snowed in in the best-case scenario, and in the worst, we’ll leave an obvious trail.” As if to punctuate the statement, melted snow dripped from Kakashi’s hair and onto the floor. “We couldn’t even get a bird through to bring you the news, so I thought I’d grace you with my presence. You’re welcome.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Their banter had been atypically stripped of its usual venom. For a moment, he stood there and studied Kakashi. Then, it hit him.

_He’s getting into character. Can’t have his team thinking he’s a venomous bastard to the point of demoralizing._

It wasn’t necessarily a novel realization. Kakashi had always been keen on keeping their more vicious exchanges away from public notice. It had always been their little secret.

“How long do I have to put my pack together?” The question was a pointless test of Kakashi’s patience since Sasuke already had his travel pack put together— sans weapons, of course.

“Five minutes and I’m being generous.” Kakashi shifted his weight and crossed his arms, the barest hint of a challenge in his posture. It only lasted a moment before he changed his stance to pull something from the sack on his back. “Oh, before I forget. Almost stepped on this on the way in. Mail delivery.”

He tossed a small package at Sasuke who fumbled it with a tinge of ire and disappointment. It dropped to the ground, followed by something that sounded suspiciously like a swallowed chuckle. Sasuke scowled as he bent down to pick it up. “What is it?”

“How would I know? I didn’t open it.” 

Sasuke was suspicious, if only because he could still remember a point in time in which Kakashi had delighted in tormenting his trainees with pointless mind games with the only end goal being his own amusement. He remembered that once Kakashi had spent an entire week jumping out at Naruto until he couldn’t hear a tree rustle without flinching. 

But the handwriting on the outside wrapping of the package wasn’t Kakashi’s. He didn’t know who it belonged to, but it was soft and neat. They’d only written his name on the outside. He ignored the pale, paranoid warning in his gut, flicked one more suspicious glance up at Kakashi, and untied the brown string holding everything together.

Three scrolls sat inside the box, along with a short note.

_Thank you for having dinner with Sakura. I hope you can use these._

She hadn’t signed the note, but it was obvious from the contents that Tenten had delivered the package as a thank-you that Sasuke wasn’t sure he deserved. Still, it solved his last, nagging problem.

Kakashi- leaning over Sasuke to inspect the box- sighed. “There goes my plan to get you to say ‘pretty please,’ huh? I brought you some supplies to beg for, but I guess they’re useless now.”

Sasuke resisted the urge to smirk in smug triumph, and instead put some much-needed distance between them. He didn’t particularly enjoy the facade Kakashi hid behind. Lackadaisical observations from the captain only served to amplify Sasuke’s unease. 

“I’ll go change and grab my things. Excuse me.”

Once inside his minimal bedroom, Sasuke gave his new scrolls a quick study. It was hard not to admire Tenten’s ability to craft efficient seals; as far as he could tell, no stroke on the paper was left without a purpose. Tenten had sealed shuriken and kunai knives within two of the scrolls, but the third seemed to hold a large tessen. Curious, Sasuke performed a quick release and inspected the fan. It was delicately crafted in white, red, and black, and the edge was scalloped in a thin blade. He’d never used a weapon like this before, but he surmised that was exactly why Tenten had chosen it over something he knew well, like a katana.

He was sure, too, that she knew Wind Release was his weakest affinity. In essence, she’d given him the means to protect himself, to fight alongside comrades, and nothing more. He had to begrudgingly admit that it was a clever move on her part. It was also a reinforcement of the warning Sakura had given him. With a small, tired smile, he resealed the fan and tucked all three scrolls into his bag before quickly donning his uniform and heading back out to meet Kakashi.

However, the man was gone and in his place, there was a note on the floor. 

_Front gate._

In place of a signature, Kakashi had left a hastily scribbled scarecrow. Sasuke crumpled the note and tossed it, and just barely remembered to lock the door on his way out.

* * *

Fighting the wind and snow as it picked up strength, Sasuke ran toward the main gate. He could just barely see it- flashes of red through a flurry of white- as he dashed from rooftop to rooftop. Kakashi hadn’t been lying about a storm approaching, and Sasuke hastened toward his waiting team. As he approached, they took off toward the trees. _No meetup, then._ Time was of the essence, and Sasuke pursued. They needed to get away from the storm as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t follow them since it was blowing in from the west and they were heading north, but it would slow them down and drain their energy if they weren’t quick and prudent. 

It didn’t take him long to catch up, falling just behind Crown and Bear as they kept pace behind Kakashi. Crow gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, seemingly impressed with how quickly Sasuke closed the distance. Sasuke returned the nod after a beat, wanting to preserve the camaraderie. Maybe the thought of the Konoha 11 was still with him, an unconscious desire to not fit in but not fall out.

No one spoke until the trees had thinned hours later. They’d cleared the thick forest interior to the Land of Fire in a day, which was a feat that spoke to the incredible prowess of the Anbu. Even when he’d lead Taka, he’d rarely pushed his team this hard; Crow and Bear were hardly panting, either. It was with some begrudging that Sasuke had to cede to himself that the Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai was hardly child's play. He was surprisingly _impressed_ with the realization, rather than put out.

Craigs and rocks took up the space left by diminishing foliage, gradually filling in the landscape until they were stopped in a small clearing, ringed by rocky outcropping on three sides. The little shelf provided some solace from the cold, biting wind following them from the side. They’d escaped most of the snow, though, which was a relief.

Bear was the first to make himself at home, throwing off his pack with a metallic jangle as it hit the ground. He groaned, stretching his arms over his head. “Damn. Trying to shave off some time, huh, Kitsune-san?” They’d left their hierarchy back at the village to preserve total anonymity in the field. Their enemies couldn’t cut off the head and scramble the team if they didn’t know who the head was.

“Maa, out of shape, Bear-san?” Kakashi deadpanned back, and Crow chuckled as Bear sputtered indignantly. The atmosphere lacked a tenseness that Sasuke had long associated with field missions. Then again, his goals had been life or death, hadn’t they? They weren’t doing anything so serious. Granted, it was an assassination, but the fate of reality as they knew it didn’t hang in the balance. It was a strange change of pace and Sasuke struggled to find his balance as he dumped his haversack to the ground and began disentangling his sleeping roll with one hand.

Honestly, Sasuke wasn’t sure what he should have been expecting, but it wasn’t the easy, relaxed closeness coming to life around him in the small nook. Crow and Bear bickered quietly, goodnaturedly, with each other as they set up lean-to tents while Kakashi busied himself with a low fire. Sleet sizzled on the crackling embers and Sasuke found himself drifting toward them with a small shiver. His joints ached, newly unused to the strain of fieldwork, but before he could sit, Kakashi looked up at him.

“Neko-kun, if we’re all working, why don’t you be a good little housewife and cook for us?” His voice was unpointed and carried a hint of playfulness, but Sasuke bristled all the same.

“Sure. I think with my single hand I can manage some burnt rice.” Sasuke’s returning tone was nearing the edge of unfriendliness if not animosity, and while he knew he needed to rein it in before Crow and Bear had more questions than he had answers, the triumphant glitter in Kakashi’s eye made it difficult.

Before Kakashi could reply with something cajoling and annoying, Crow laughed. He’d apparently been eavesdropping on their fledgling conversation and headed it off before Sasuke could lose himself to his temper. It should have unnerved him how well Crow could already read him, but he didn’t comment. 

“He makes a good point, byakko.” The nickname bordered on affectionate, and at that moment, Sasuke saw how well the team worked together (at least without him). How many missions had they endured to turn them into a little family? How deeply did Kakashi feel for them, if at all?

“How is our poor Neko-tan supposed to do anything with one arm and that pretty jewelry clanging around?” Crow pointed toward Sasuke’s chakra dampener. It was thick and just a little bit loose around his wrist. It would no doubt clang against a pot, and in terms of covert operations, that was generally regarded as a stupid mistake.

While none of them could see it, they could _feel_ Kakashi’s eye roll. “Fine, fine. He can sit there like a damsel and we’ll be the heroes.” Once the fire was banked and steady, Kakashi stood from his crouch and brushed his pants off. “The snow should keep falling into the night, but don’t get complacent. Weather doesn’t mean shit to good trackers, and it’s not as heavy as it was earlier.”

Crow and Bear nodded, with Sasuke following suit belatedly. They briefed a few other details of the mission, talking in vague terms for their own safety. Once Kakashi was satisfied that his team was prepared for the worst without veering into paranoia and patronization, he retreated into his tent until his turn to sit watch. 

“Gonna stay up all night and brood about all the ways the mission could go wrong,” Bear nodded toward their retreating captain since his hands were otherwise occupied with keeping close to the fire. Snow swirled around them, wetter and lighter than it had been in the village. Although they couldn’t hope for the snow to cover their tracks, Sasuke was grateful for the reprieve; he hated the cold. Otherwise, he might have followed Kakashi’s lead and retreated to his tent. Instead, it was enough for them to keep warm around the fire and keep a steady flow of warming chakra thrumming just under their skin.

“He does that often, I assume?” Sasuke didn’t _want_ to be interested, but he justified it to himself with minimal effort. The ghosts of his past still haunted him and he courted them in turn. They were intertwined, and he had yet to extricate himself. It was a penance of sorts; as much as he hated them, he couldn’t kill them off that final time and lay them to rest. Kakashi was one of those ghosts if only because of the eye and the legacy he carried with him.

“He’s a… perfectionist,” Crow hedged, dropping his voice low. None of them thought Kakashi would be listening for a mention of his name, but they didn’t want to be caught either way. 

“We’ve speculated about once or twice.” The way Crow said it led Sasuke to believe that it was more than that, but he didn’t press. He was familiar with the draw. “He was taken out of active duty, I’m sure you know. The commonly accepted reason is that his identity was compromised, but that doesn’t hold up. Half of us have bingo book entries, you know?”

Bear leaned forward, his love of mystery on full display. “We did a little digging on his last mission. Happened with your- ah, with an operative under the alias ‘Weasel’.”

Sasuke stiffened, and Bear nodded sympathetically. “Exactly. Kitsune-san was emotionally compromised in some way, it seems because the mission was apparently completed without casualties.”

“And that’s breaking a rule,” Sasuke supplied, half-questioning. He wasn’t sure how his brother factored in, but there was still too much about Itachi’s entanglement with the village’s political underbelly that he didn’t know. The thought that there was any connection between him and Kakashi, though, was unsettling and he pushed it from the forefront of his mind to join everything else he didn’t want to inspect too closely. 

Crow nodded. “An unspoken rule, really. Feelings can get in the way of the messy things we’re required to do, you know? That’s why there was such a furor about not only you joining, but you getting put on this team, too.”

Something cold and prickly trickled down his spine, but he kept his face carefully neutral and raised a single severe brow. “Is that so?”

“Don’t get all hissy,” Bear rumbled. There was that ever-present humor in his voice, but it was muted. “We all worried about it, and not just because you’re a hyper-traitor or whatever.”

Crow made a noise in the back of his throat and started coughing like he’d swallowed wrong. “ _Bear_.”

“What? It’s true— and if it’s not, it’s funny, at least.” Bear was unconcerned, nonchalant. “Anyway, people were worried about him, too. Sure, he has the most experience with you, but that means he has more at stake and all the more reason to want revenge.”

Sasuke nodded. It made him feel at least a little better that Kakashi was treading a line just like him. But…

“What about you two?” He heard the hard edge in his voice and tried to soften it. “I mean, what are your stakes?”

“We can’t tell you too much,” Crow hedged, and Sasuke nodded. Preserving the internal anonymity of the organization was important, but they were out in the open. Just because they couldn’t sense a spy didn’t mean they were alone. “But suffice to say, the Fourth War changed everything for everyone.”

Sasuke chewed on the loaded phrasing as silence settled around the fire. One of the more notable aspects of the Fourth Shinobi World War was the Allied Shinobi Forces; at no other point in history had the shinobi nations come together as one, fighting alongside one another. He hadn’t put much thought toward that aftermath once peace was settled, but it made sense that those alliances were never fully dissolved.

If they were looking for watchdogs and wardens that wouldn’t try to kill their ward, looking outside the people born and raised in the village Sasuke had so personally betrayed was probably the best move. 

“Then Kitsune-san has a _heart_?” is what Sasuke jokingly came up with to break the tensive silence, and Bear snorted.

“That’s one way to put it,” he ceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “He gets the job done, but it follows him home. It probably hangs onto him more than anyone else. I mean, I sleep _great._ ”

Crow shook his head in fond exasperation.

In a way, Bear’s and Crow’s revelation fit with the image of Kakashi that Sasuke had painted in his mind. Scars might fade, and some of them were easy to ignore, but others ached until one died. Sasuke was covered in the same sort of scars: the loss of a clan, public shame, death, and helplessness. It made sense to him that Kakashi was pushing just as many skeletons down into the loam of his mind as Sasuke was. He wasn’t sure he liked the comparison, but a little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that parallels made enemies easier to eliminate.

Eventually, the fire fell to embers and then to ashes and the three of them retreated to their tents and fell to sleep. The wind whipped up sharp and as it blew through the small camp, it took with it ears and eyes that the team hadn’t noticed.

* * *

Sasuke couldn’t sleep, but he hadn’t expected to sleep. If he couldn’t find a way to relax in his own bed, there was little chance he’d get comfortable on the ground out in the open and surrounded by people he didn’t _quite_ trust yet, at least not completely. Instead, he passed those few, quiet hours of rest in shallow reverie when it wasn’t his turn to keep watch.

They packed up the meager camp before morning broke but not before Kakashi handed each of them a set of unique, descript clothing.

Bear’s face split into a grin. “Oh, so we’re doing this again?”

Kakashi’s voice carried the barest hint of amusement. “If it worked once, why not twice?”

Sasuke looked toward Crow for an explanation, but before Crow could even open his mouth, Kakashi elaborated himself. “It’s a simple ploy. Crow, Bear, and I will dress up as mercenaries, and our prince-sama here will play the wealthy nobleman we’re escorting. I think that distribution makes the most sense, yeah?”

“Makes sense,” Bear agreed. “I assume we’ll want to add henges to the disguises?”

Kakashi nodded decisively. “Better to take all precautions. Some of us are recognizable.” Sasuke didn’t know which of them Kakashi was referring to specifically, and he didn’t ask. With a few elaborate hand signs and a little smoke, all four of them adopted new faces before removing their masks. 

The four newly-minted strangers donned their new outfits in hurried silence, though Sasuke spared a few moments to study each of them. He wasn’t sure when the last time he’d worn a new face was, and he was only a little anxious that he wouldn’t be up to standard. The more complex a henge was, the more effort it took to maintain it. On the other hand, he had a fairly recognizable face. Would someone critique him, or would he blend seamlessly?

Kakashi’s disguise was the least conspicuous, with messy brown hair falling over his forehead and into muddy green eyes. Sasuke wondered idly if the mole at the corner of Kakashi’s mouth was part of the disguise or just something he’d always hidden behind his usual mask.

He didn’t have any frame of reference for Crow or Bear except what he could see when they were in their uniform, like hair color and skin tone. Of course, that only held if both of them weren’t always in henge. Sasuke had heard that some Anbu operatives preferred a disguise even behind the porcelain mask and maintained an entirely different appearance any time they were on duty. Crow had put his dark and spiky hair away for a blonde mop tied up in a rough chonmage. A white marking traced a line across the skin under his eyes and across his nose; it was the same nut-brown shade Sasuke was used to. Bear was an inverse of Crow, with wide swaths of his pale skin covered in knotted, ropey scars. His muscles bulged with unrefined strength, and Sasuke made a mental note to tease Bear about his vanity later. His hair was typically black but cropped close to the scalp. His face was unmarked. 

The three of them looked reasonably like they could be disparate mercenaries, all desperate for a massive payday.

Sasuke, for his part, had opted to follow his captain down the route of the unremarkable. Dark, shoulder-length hair was tied into a tidy topknot. Wide eyes and feathery eyelashes were set in a moon-shaped face that could either belie innocence or malversation. He was plain and insignificant, but well-manicured and overpomped. He was swallowed by his robes, which were a bit threadbare but reminiscent of their once grand opulence. Everything about him seemed to be carefully curated to make him seem like he was someone with too much importance.

he was dressed, he wordlessly presented himself to the captain for final approval. Kakashi was already dressed, tying a final knot in the obi around his waist. A wakizashi and two tanto dangled from the belt, and Sasuke felt a distant pang of longing after his own sword. His sleeves were tied back so that he was perpetually ready for an ambush. It was almost shocking how differently Kakashi not only looked but carried himself. Satisfied with his own appearance, Kakashi faced Sasuke. 

“Not bad. Not what I was expecting, though. I’m surprised you chose someone so dull and uninteresting,” was his verdict. Sasuke frowned, trying to decide if he was being insulted, being called vapid or vain. Before he could come to a conclusion, though, Kakashi was spinning him around with a firm hand on Sasuke’s waist. 

A blazing scowl- and accompanying blush- blazed to life high on his face, borne from the indignity of being manhandled. “What the hell, H- F-Fox?”

“Relax.” It was a command but not a harsh one. Hatake was all too familiar with the hair triggers leftover from war. “You tied your sash wrong. It’s a small thing, but even the most complex genjutsu is unwound by a single thread. Even a minor nobleman would know how to do it.” 

Sasuke stilled as Kakashi worked, feeling the tug and slide of fabric across his belly. “Are you trying to teach me still, _sensei_ , even after all this time? How can I even be sure you know what you’re talking about, anyway?” He meant for the question to be sharp, a commentary and callback rather than a confirmation. Instead, it came out on the edge of breathlessness. Kakashi didn’t bother replying, but Sasuke could feel a maddening smirk behind his back.

He pulled himself away from Kakashi with a quiet huff, adjusting his own silks and layers while pretending that Kakashi wasn’t soundlessly chuckling into his hand. Why was he always playing games? It put Sasuke’s teeth to grinding.

Honestly, it infuriated him that Hatake could so easily find the little weak points that Sasuke thought he’d sealed away. They were in a crypt interred with the person he could have been if… well, there were a lot of ‘ifs.’ Kakashi seemed more than happy to chip away at the mausoleum, pulling up bones to satisfy retribution. 

Or, perhaps, Sasuke was being melodramatic and Kakashi was just taking childish delight in the fact that Sasuke was so visibly discomfited by physical touch. He didn’t have the time to decide, not when Kakashi was circling everyone up to give them final notes.

“I’m sure you can figure it out, but,” he spoke in a low, gravelly voice that sounded just different enough that the back of Sasuke’s neck prickled, “as we travel in entourage with a supposedly wealthy nobleman, we attract a bit of attention and our rogue samurai lord Noguchi comes after us.” He was speaking to all three of them, but his voice rattled down Sasuke’s spine and he had to fight a shiver. 

Bear and Crow nodded along, already familiar with the plan. Sasuke narrowed his eyes with suspicion. 

“He captures Neko-san for some old fashioned extortion. We swoop in and rescue our charge. Unfortunately, we’re overzealous sellswords and we get too _enthusiastic_.”

“There’s no one left, and it’s too bad we’ll disappear after that,” Crow added gleefully. “Because we’ll have plenty of people requesting our services after word of our legendary guardianship gets around.”

“It’s truly tragic to have to let so many people down,” Kakashi agreed with a solemn nod.

“Has this really worked before?” Sasuke asked, with no small amount of incredulity. “Noguchi can’t be _that_ stupid.”

“I feel like I’ve tricked you with less,” Kakashi stroked his chin, one eyebrow arched in mock contemplation, “and you’re not as stupid as Noguchi is, I think. Well, I _hope_.”

“You _hope_ I’m not as dumb as a rogue samurai with little drive or ambition but petty thievery?” Sasuke asked, incredulous. They were bickering without any real heat, and it seemed that the audience of Crow and Bear continued to temper their confrontations. Whatever the reason, it kept Kakashi from lunging for the jugular, and for that, Sasuke was grateful.

“Maa, when you put it that way, I think material wealth is _smarter_ than… what was it you wanted? Total annihilation? Brilliant. A truly supreme plan.”

Sasuke scowled and opened his mouth for another rebuttal, but Crow cut them off. “As cute as your bantering is, perhaps- given Neko-tan’s… change of heart- this is a moot argument?”

Kakashi laughed and conceded the point. Though he added, “I really think you’re missing the value of a moot argument. It’s a delightful exercise.”

Sasuke had no idea what he meant by that but decided it was wise to decline comment and instead continue talking logistics. “So I get captured, play the wilting patrician, and when the time comes, I help you clean up. Did I get that right?”

His teammates nodded. “You nailed it, my lord,” Bear congratulated him with a flourishing bow.

“Is that the right title for him? Seems a bit too fancy.” A frown crinkled Crow’s brow.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Bear asserted with a casual wave. “I mean, a hoity-toity guy like him would probably let that kinda thing slide.”

“You mean the guy I’m pretending to be,” Sasuke hedged with a hint of humor.

“Right.” Bear and Crow answered at the same time, followed by a nearly simultaneous tandem laugh.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. It was getting to be a habit around the three of them, and given the Uchiha clan’s tendency toward eye injury, he needed to be careful.

They picked their way through the edge of the forest and found themselves at a rutted, muddy road. The snow and sleet from the night before had stopped, but not before it had left its mark. Sasuke pulled up short. “What sort of lord wears muddy robes?”

“Uh-oh, he’s _really_ getting into it,” Bear snickered, only to be elbowed in the ribs by Crow. Their brief respite of strategy and levity was over. They needed to be in character, to stay in character, until the end of the mission. 

“Sorry about that, milord,” Kakashi interjected smoothly. “But if you look over there,” Kakashi pointed behind them toward the other side of the road where a small cart was waiting. There was no horse or mule— the implication of which Sasuke cottoned on faster than the others.

He said nothing, but his delighted grin was just the right shade of high-born and self-aggrandized.

* * *

Bear grunted, heaving the lacquered cart through a slog of cold, wet mud. He was sweating despite the frosty temperature. The cart was admittedly unwieldy and kept getting stuck in deep ruts; the silty slush sometimes decided it didn’t want to let a wheel go until Bear _yanked_. All in all, it was a thoroughly miserable sojourn.

Predictably, the cart again jostled slightly, and Sasuke lifted an arm imperiously.

“Do be careful, Chikuso-san,” he reprimanded in a thin, reedy voice. He could see the way Bear’s shoulders tensed, just for a moment, and had to hide a laugh behind his trailing sleeve. They really should have figured out names before leaving the forest if they really didn’t want Sasuke to choose names for them. “Do you think you could assist him, Kutaba-san?”

Crow only narrowly avoided a grimace and moved toward the front of the cart to help Bear pull harder. Sasuke caught the tail end of an aborted snicker from Kakashi, but before he could reprimand his captain and assign him an equally terrible name, Kakashi motioned for the cart to come to a halt.

Sasuke turned his attention back toward the road, mildly surprised to see that a whole village had materialized just over the next slope. Light glinted harshly into their eyes from the dutifully polished armor of an approaching trio of guards. The one in the front raised a hand in greeting, and Bear returned the friendly gesture. After all, they weren’t meant to be a threat even if they were hardened mercenary escorts; they were better off if they made themselves look just as meek as they seemed valuable. Noguchi undoubtedly had eyes and ears throughout the Land of Iron, especially along the major trade route they were traversing, and easy targets were the most attractive sort.

“Welcome! What brings you through Kazamaura Village, friends?” The lead guard smiled at their group, and after a moment of silence following, Sasuke realized he was supposed to say something. He was the one with authority. As he opened his mouth, though, Kakashi strode around from the side of the cart with an equally pleasant smile.

“Our benefactor, Lord Murasaki, is on his way to meet his betrothed in the north. Unfortunately, his caravan broke down earlier in the journey. We thought it best not to delay Murasaki-sama’s union, as you can see."

The guard nodded solemnly. “We are living in troubling times, aren’t we?” But his smile quickly returned. “We would be honored to host Lord Murasaki and his guard if he wished for a respite.” 

Kakashi looked up toward Sasuke who had to scramble and hide the black look he’d been giving his captain upon being named. “Ah, yes,” he replied, shakily finding his lordly tone from before. “I believe we’re due for a rest, considering the lackadaisical pace we’ve fallen into.”

A short noise went unnoticed by the guards, but the rest of them heard the indignant grunt from Bear for what it was.

“Excellent! Shall we escort you to the inn?” The guards didn’t offer to help Bear, leaving him to heave the jinrikisha along behind them. The guards kept an amicable pace with their little group and kept up a stream of small talk after introducing themselves. Ito, the lead guard, talked the most; he had a friendly disposition that felt at odds with the fierce scar running down the side of his face. The other two- Tanaka and Goto- were relatively quiet in comparison, but added to the conversation occasionally. Sasuke did his best to stay animate and engaged, playing his part as best he could.

The walk into Kazamaura was relatively short and without any shock or awe. The village was small and unremarkable, eclipsed by vast but dead farmland on both sides. Frosted rice paddies, dotted with leftover stalks and stretches of dry-cracking mud, stacked around the town and lent it an air of tired but contented rurality. It was a far cry from Konoha’s sprawling post-war reconstruction, but it seemed that the village had mostly gone untouched during the crisis. Its small size and relative unimportance were probably its saving grace. As they made their way into the town, Sasuke tried to catalog everything he could without his Sharingan. Empty market stalls lined the narrow road they ambled along. Birds perched on low overhangs that were missing some of their tiles. Coupled with the clouds rolling in across the afternoon sun, Sasuke couldn’t help but think that the town wasn’t the sort to have a guard contingent. How could the village pay them when it couldn’t afford shingles. Then again, war made people find the money for priorities like protection.

After a half hour’s walk, the small group found their destination. The inn was settled in the middle of Kazamaura like the hub of a wheel. It was one of the largest structures in town, though it didn’t look any more well-off. However, it was decorated earnestly with fluttering banners and wooden signs promising hot baths and strong shōchū. Sasuke caught Crow eyeing the crudely drawn bottles with something adjacent to longing and wondered if the team would be allowed to relax even if just to preserve their illusion. It didn’t sound like the worst thing to have to relax like a leisured peer to maintain appearances.

The guards must have noticed their fatigue and Goto, pulling up the rear, graciously mentioned that, “I think the mistress of the inn has specialty bath oils. You should ask about it. I’m sure it would help forget the hardships of travel.”

Kakashi smiled and nodded gratefully. “Delightful. I’ll make sure our most esteemed guarantor takes part in every luxury the inn has to offer. Speaking of— where might we eat?” 

“Well, the Yadzutsu Inn is capable of providing a simple and hearty meal, but if you’re looking for the best that Kazamaura has to offer, the akachōchin on the other side of town is a local treasure. Their nabemono makes you forget it’s the middle of winter.”

Bear let the wagon down gently and stretched his back. “Could do with some of that myself. I’m starving.” His stomach growled on cue. 

“I can imagine so,” Ito replied. Then, he turned toward Sasuke and rendered a swift, polite bow. “We hope your stay in Kazamaura is comfortable.”

Sasuke managed a shallow nod in return, one that he hoped was appropriately disinterested and haughty. Then, all at once, the team was alone. 

Crow helped Sasuke- overladen with silk and embroidery- from the cart, while Bear and Kakashi went ahead to secure rooms. “Careful not to dirty your hems, highness,” Crow murmured with an air of put-upon subservience. Sasuke had to resist the urge to shove an elbow into his ribs and instead tipped his nose up.

“I shall do my level best,” he responded gravely, his own tone an exaggeration of import. “But know I shall be docking your pay if I am stained.”

Crow fought a snicker as they made their way into the inn. Already the staff had whipped themselves into a furor, roused by the idea of freely-flowing coin. It was fairly evident that Sasuke- or rather, Lord Murasaki- was not just a highbrow guest, but he and his entourage were the _only_ guests at the inn. The inn would earn every coin he was willing to part with during his stay, and they’d do it not only efficiently but with beatific smiles on their faces.

It made the back of Sasuke’s neck prickle with a sickly, cold heat. Crow seemed to share some of his uneasiness, though Sasuke suspected it stemmed from entirely different reasons. As for Crow, Anbu were supposed to work in the shadows unseen; here they were being fawned over by at least a dozen people who wanted to forge a personal (albeit lucrative) relationship with each of them. By the time the two of them had made it into the front hall, they’d already been accosted more than once.

Sasuke wanted to shrink back, to put himself against a wall and maybe shake some of the surging vulnerability knotting up his throat, but he couldn’t. All he could do was stand there and wait for their rooms to be readied. A young woman sidled up to Sasuke from the corner of his eye and offered him a glass of water with a sweeping bow. He didn’t know how to decline the offer when he could barely figure out how to breathe, and so he accepted the drink as graciously as he could manage. The girl squealed in delight when his fingers brushed hers. 

In the corner of the room, a cacophony as a trio of musicians stumbled over themselves and their instruments as they tried to start an impromptu performance. It added the worst sound of background music to the disaster, bowstrings grating against the key and on Sasuke’s nerves. 

Sasuke was overwhelmed. 

When he had first left the village, he’d left to find power promised to him by Orochimaru. He’d only been twelve. Just twelve. He was dragged underground, melted down, and made into something else. It hadn’t been a quick, easy process. Sasuke wasn’t even sure if it _worked_. Was he better, or had he simply been an experimental fetish? Something to poke at, to prod at, to fawn over, but not a person in his own right.

Memories, horrors, slid through the fringes of his mind as they looked for a weakened entry point. He’d worked so hard to bury them, but they were back. They didn’t care that he wasn’t twelve anymore. He wasn’t helpless. Was he?

These, though, weren’t memories of his family floating in puddles of their own blood. His brother wasn’t walking away from him in his mind’s eye. He wasn’t burning with rage. No, it was shame. There were flashes of jagged needles under his skin, of venom burning through his veins. He could still vividly see anonymous scientists- clones or real people, he would never be sure- leaning over him while he struggled against his bindings. He still felt the way he burned in fury and humiliation and pain as they held his eyes open to poke, prod, and sample. He hadn’t been human. He’d been a plaything, a way to satisfy arcane curiosities. He was gawked at for what he could provide in blood and bone.

Sasuke hated nothing else as much as he hated that such a moment existed, not just within his head but within reality. It had actually happened, and he not only bore witness to it but endured it. Sasuke was losing himself in the past, in carefully buried traumas that he never wanted to define him. Everyone was _too close_. They were phantoms or they were real, and he couldn’t differentiate at that moment. It took everything within him not to flinch and raze.

Kakashi could tell nearly immediately.

They met eyes across the room, and he peeled himself away from the inn’s proprietress. Bear continued their negotiations while Kakashi instead positioned himself beside Sasuke and fixed a wide, warm palm to Sasuke’s elbow. It didn’t calm the hideous, contorted laughter behind his eardrums nor did it slow the unrelenting hammering of his heart, but it did give him a way to put one foot in front of the other over and over again until he was standing in the middle of a relatively well-appointed suite.

Sasuke knew he needed to collect himself. He couldn’t start building the habit of falling apart. Pulling himself out from his own mind, he focused on the threadbare painting on the wall. He began cataloging each stroke on the canvas and in turn, his throat loosened bit by bit. Once he could swallow, he turned to its intricate detail. 

The tapestry hung over the bed that dominated the far wall. It spanned the bed’s width like a tasteful headboard and lent an air of sophistication to what could only fairly be described as a country bed and breakfast. The work itself was painted in bold, trailing brushstrokes that belied a confidence from the artist that Sasuke could lean on. A bird- he thought it might have been a shrike- perched in the middle of a field of barley wrought in golds, auburns, and deep greens. The shrike’s thin talons were wrapped around a small hunk of stalks as everything bent in the same direction. Sasuke could almost imagine the cooling autumn gust across his overheated skin. The little bird would be blown away if he couldn’t manage to hold fast, but his tail fanned behind him and caught the wind.

 _Counterintuitive_ , was Sasuke’s only thought as Kakashi closed the door behind them and silently sealed it with a noise-dampening jutsu. 

“You’ve got to relax, Murasaki,” he murmured, still using Sasuke’s alias. Something twinged deep inside him, and it felt just a bit like a disappointment. Still, he nodded. They needed to be as careful as possible. Jutsus weren’t infallible; disguises weren’t impenetrable. Precautions didn’t mean they could be careless. 

“I know.” He was angry at himself in a distant, complicated sort of way that he didn’t have the energy to untangle at the moment. It was another reconciliation for later, for when he was stronger. “I should have expected that.” He already knew that people were annoying, cloying, and clustering, but ultimately harmless. They’d been raised differently and he’d conditioned himself counter to them. He’d spent years ignoring and avoiding them altogether but less than a year back in Konoha had made him vulnerable again. It was a burden he shouldn’t have put on his own back, and now it was damaging his team and his mission. 

Kakashi paused and then sighed, running a hand down his face. Any of the anger he’d been building, any frustration at his lack of control, seemed to fly out of him. He shrugged. “Maa, you’re not used to being accosted by commoners. We tend to be bold out in the country. It’s to be expected. Just don’t hold it against them.”

It was strange having to stay within their personas considering the situation. Sasuke desperately wished for a moment to be himself because he was suffocating under too many lies already. But he’d made a promise to his best friend, to his Hokage, to the one person who still believed there was a way to salvage all the broken glass behind Sasuke’s ribs. 

“I’ll do my best,” he replied, though it wasn’t completely convincing.

“Would you like to order a bath drawn for you? Might help you relax.” Sasuke could hear the subtext. It wasn’t an offer of kindness; rather, it was a pylon reinforcing their theater. The frail and shaken noble was ushered to his room, overwhelmed by the unwashed masses, and only a long, decadent soak could put him to rights.

Instead of jumping up and ringing for a maid, though, Kakashi sat on the edge of the plush bed and studied Sasuke carefully. Sasuke wanted to hold his eye contact. It felt like he was being scrutinized, judged, and found wanting. But he couldn’t, and after just a moment, Sasuke returned his gaze to the painting above his captain. 

_Just hold on a little longer_.

Then, “You really should have chosen a prettier face. The world doesn’t feel right when an Uchiha isn’t a work of art, or so I’m sure.” Kakashi broke the silence without remorse and shook his head before pushing to his feet. “I’ll go get someone to start your bath, my lord.”

He was gone quickly, just after his strange words had faded. Sasuke didn’t dwell on them, though. He didn’t trust anything when he was in that all too familiar vulnerable place. It wasn’t like Kakashi was a rational or even scrutable individual. No, it meant nothing beyond Hatake’s typical strangeness, and the fact that he’d mentioned it twice made Sasuke feel like it was some sort of game in the works. He was mercurial and inscrutable, and Sasuke would do well to remember that. Really, he never should have forgotten it, because most of what Hatake Kakashi said could be brushed off as nonsense. 

He’d all but shrugged their interaction off by the time a maid had knocked meekly. Finding his alter ego again, Sasuke called out. “Come in.” He was relieved his voice didn’t shake, that it was high and clear. His accent was rounded and refined. He was _fine_.

Someone must have spoken to her beforehand, coached her on how to attend to a man who caught vapors when a commoner merely _touched_ him. As she entered the suit, she meted out a bow and hurried toward the stone tub in the adjoining washroom without eye contact. She had a small pitcher gripped in her trembling hands; it was filled with steaming water but carried the scent of lemongrass and rosehips. Without a word, the maid busied herself with coating the stone tub with the mixture. 

Steam drifted out to meet him where he was standing in the middle of the room. It wrapped around him and promised a certain sort of relaxation; it was torture to have to wait. He wanted his robes off. He wanted his face back. He wanted the flimsy lock on the entryway secured and for just a moment to be anywhere else, even if it was only in his head. Sasuke couldn’t remember the last time that was allowed to do so. 

Once she was finished, the maid parted with another hasty bow, and two men carrying a tub of steaming water replaced her. They too finished their work quickly, filling the tub without spilling a single drop and retreating without a word. 

Once the door was closed again and he was alone, Sasuke got to work on the myriad robes and ties keeping him together. He resisted the urge to cut his ties and treated the dubiously-obtained silk as gently as he possibly could. The phantom arm he’d conjured for his henge was mostly useless, and he let it melt away with a soft, relieved sigh. Elaborate layer after layer fell to the floor in multicolor silk puddles; Sasuke left them where they laid and sank into the tub with a decadent, full-throated groan.

“Oh, wow,” Bear commented as he stepped into the room and closed the screen behind him. “What a _noise_ , your highness.”

Sasuke didn’t bother opening his eyes. He’d felt Bear’s chakra signature moments before his intrusion. “I cannot believe I forgot to lock myself in and you out. How foolish of me.”

“Truly,” was the reply.

“Hn,” was all it merited in return.

“Anyway,” Bear said after a moment, “I came to check on you. We could tell something was off. Guess I didn’t realize you were this fucked up. It makes sense, though.” He approached the washroom without concern, and it didn’t bother Sasuke. He was still in his henge, and his nudity was unreal. 

“It does?” Sasuke snorted, but he cracked an eye open. They were slipping toward the edge of their ruse, and Sasuke had to remind himself to use their code names and the stupid voice he’d made up. 

“Yeah, in a way.” Bear leaned against the door and crossed his arms casually. “We’d suspected it when captain volunteered for this mission.”

That was news to Sasuke, but he was careful not to seem _too_ interested. Both Bear and Crow already seemed too invested in the vestiges of whatever relationship they thought he and Kakashi had. “I thought he was forcibly assigned to babysit me.”

“I mean, he protested and bitched and had all of these excuses. You know how he is. But when the position was opened up for other takers, he wouldn’t have it.” Bear dropped his voice even though he’d locked the door behind him and the silencing jutsu was still holding strong. “Maybe he likes broken things. Maybe it makes him feel less broken himself.” He shrugged. “I don’t think any of us expected just _how_ fucked up you are, though.”

Sasuke snorted. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. “Yeah, you just said that. I’m surprised myself, though. I thought everyone knew what I’d been through, what I did.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to harp on it or make you relive it. I mean, it’s not like we don’t _like_ you, but… Crow and I had this image of you in our head. Granted, it was mostly built off of bingo book entries and gossip, but still.”

Sasuke knew what they’d imagined— some sort of ravenous demi-god who could tear a goddess asunder with his bare hands. _The Uchiha Legacy._ The story got passed around when the blood and dust of the Fourth Shinobi War settled, and at first, he’d liked it. It wasn’t true, though, so he couldn’t keep enjoying it. Not really. He couldn’t have done it without Naruto, who was all but an _actual_ demi-god. He and the nine-tails had done most of the work. Sasuke was only ever support and counterbalance. He could see that truth now that trial and penance had removed the heat of pride and acrimony.

“And now you know most of that was greatly exaggerated, and now I’m on the straight and narrow?” Sasuke let his henge melt, his arm disappearing and hair shrinking. “Curse is broken and all that.” It felt strange to lean on what he’d always thought was a myth, a hoax. Was there really a curse? He didn’t know, but everyone else seemed to think so.

“Well, yeah,” Bear shrugged, taking a seat on the floor. Apparently, they were settling into a real conversation. Sasuke wasn’t sure he minded, at least totally. “Everyone’s got their demons and all that shit.”

“Maybe,” but he snorted.

“Hey, what do you know, pretty boy?” Bear smiled.

Echoes of Sasuke’s earlier conversation with Kakashi filtered back into his mind. It brought up some questions, some lingering intrigue. He let the silence settle between them in the perfumed air as he formulated his next question so very carefully.

“You and Cr- Kutaba are more than colleagues, aren’t you?”

Bear startled, sitting up straight and tugging on his phantom hair. “What the fuck, Uchiha?” The name slipped out before he could catch it, startled. His voice was almost too loud even in the sound-proofed room, and Sasuke shot him a look. Bear’s volume dropped. “Where are you gettin’ _that_ from?”

Sasuke shrugged. Bear hadn’t denied anything. “So I suppose the organization’s strict rules about relationships aren’t as strict as you implied earlier.” It wasn’t a question.

Bear kept his peace for only a minute more before breaking. “As long as people are discreet and it doesn’t compromise a mission, most people look the other way. We’re not _supposed_ to engage, but...” It was a pointed comment. Sasuke only shrugged, water trickling onto the wooden floor. “Some people think it strengthens the bonds in the organization.”

“Who has the captain lost? Where were his bonds forged in the organization?” 

Bear couldn’t help but throw Sasuke a suspicious glance from the corner of his eye. “Is there something we don’t know about that long history you have with him? Honestly, I thought Crow was crazy when he told me he thought there was something there.”

It took every ounce of forbearance within him not to sit up in the tub and issue an edict’s worth of denials. There was _nothing_ but animosity between him and Sasuke. They’d tried to kill each other on more than one occasion. Besides that, Sasuke had never been physically or romantically interested in anyone. He hadn’t had the time or inclination. Nothing like passion or physical want had ever burned low in his gut, had never moved his hand, had never passed through his head.

That just wasn’t an experience meant for him.

He shook his head, carefully and without adamance. He didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. “I don’t think so. I think I’m just curious since he’s one of the handful of people who’s come close to killing me.” It was the truth, or it felt like it. “I know everything about the Hokage, and the others who tried are dead.”

Bear was quiet for a moment before seemingly finding nothing to question. He knew about death, about near-death, and about the strange, immutable bonds forged in the heat of combat. Even opposite sides threaded connections. “We’ve never been sure, honestly. He isn’t shy about visiting the same pleasure districts as most shinobi, but if he has a dedicated lover…” Bear concluded by lifting a single shoulder. “It would have been before we knew him.”

“Maybe he’s lost someone. Maybe that’s what the Weasel fiasco was all about.” Sasuke didn’t bother clarifying what sort of _someone_ he meant. Death was inevitable, and love was a risk. Some didn’t even bother with it at all, knowing that a tragic demise and a hole in the heart was the only culmination. Sasuke himself had never understood that, if only because he’d never _chosen_ to love his family and they were the only loss he cared about.

Bear concluded the conversation with a thoughtful, “Maybe.” He pushed himself to his feet and brushed his pants off. “Anyway, I just came by to check on you. I’ll let Kutaba know you’re feeling better, my lord.”

Sasuke couldn’t decide if that was true, even as he pulled his henge back on and pushed himself from the tub. Was he feeling better? Had he ever felt okay in the first place? He tried to remember the last time he felt… relief, and all that came back to him was bleeding out in the Valley of the End. He hadn’t expected to be saved. 

Perhaps he did need to visit the Hokage’s recommended field psychiatrist when he got home. Then again, maybe he’d die on this mission and not have to worry about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for bearing with me as this chapter took nearly a month. I hope the length makes up for it in the smallest way. I guess I had a few more words to share than I originally thought.
> 
> I took some more liberties here with Anbu protocol, henges, Sasuke’s experiences with Orochimaru, and probably a bunch more stuff subconsciously. Hopefully you’ll forgive me for that.
> 
> **Glossary**
> 
> • _oisan:_ a specific category of high ranking courtesan in Japanese history  
> • _tessen:_ a weaponized Japanese hand fan designed for use in warfare  
> • _byakko:_ Japanese for "white fox," one of the many types of kitsune spirits  
> • _bingo book:_ black books used by ninja that contain any and all information on black-listed ninja  
> • _henge:_ a ninjitsu technique that allows the user to take the appearance of whatever they choose  
> • _chonmage:_ a form of Japanese traditional topknot haircut worn by men that involves shaving the top of the head  
> • _obi:_ a cord or ribbon-like sash used to secure robes  
> • _wakizashi:_ one of the traditionally made Japanese swords worn by the samurai in feudal Japan, similar to a katana  
> • _tanto:_ a shorter straight blade used as a knife  
> • _Chikuso_ and _Kutaba:_ I took some Japanese curse words (chikusho, meaning “stupid animal, son of a bitch,” or even “damn,” and kutabare, meaning basically “go to hell”) and kinda modified them into names. Is it reminiscent of the original word if this was translated into Japanese? No idea. Does this even work contextually? Also no idea. But here’s my thought process anyway!  
> • _Kazamaura Village_ and _Yadzutsu Inn:_ I’m pretty sure this isn’t a canonical village within the universe. It’s also definitely not a canonical inn. I just took a page from Kishimoto’s book and picked a real place to name it after. I won’t  
> • _Murasaki:_ I picked a mythological figure for Sasuke’s name. Any guesses as to whom and why Kakashi used it?  
> • _jinrikisha:_ a two or three-wheeled passenger cart, now known as a pulled rickshaw, which is generally pulled by one man carrying one passenger  
> • _shōchū:_ a beverage typically distilled from rice, barley, sweet potatoes, buckwheat, or brown sugar  
> • _akachōchin:_ a type of Japanese bar that serves alcoholic drinks, informal meals, and snacks  
> • _nabemono:_ stews and soups served during the colder seasons, similar to hotpot 


End file.
